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UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 


LIBRARY 
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Class Book ixfolume ; 


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https://archive.org/details/discoveryofoldno0Obald_0 


(Mahe JBUb ClO NA aoe aed Oe 


Sie ©) lel) SNORE EW Sie 


AND ITS SETTLEMENT BY THE FRENCH 


BM 


JAMES BALDWIN 


Author of ‘Baldwin's Readers,” ‘‘ The Story of Siegfried” 
“The Book Lover,” etc. 


NEW YORK .-:- CINCINNATI -:: CHICAGO 
AMERIGAN BOOK COMPANY 


C OFYRIGHT, 1901, BY 


AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY. 


ENTERED AT STATIONERS’ HAtt, Lonpon. 


DISC OLD NORTHWEST. 


With 12 


|, Sev ey IGM PLerce , 


= 


PREGA GS Ee 


WuiLE every American is familiar with the events con- 
nected with the discovery and colonization of the eastern 
shores of our country, the history of the Old Northwest — 
that magnificent section of our country lying west of the 
Alleghanies and bounded by the Mississippi, the Ohio, 
and the Great Lakes —is comparatively unknown. It 
has a history as varied, as interesting, and as important 
as that of any other portion of the North American conti- 
nent, and yet few persons realize the extent to which the 
events attending its early exploration, its conquest, and its 
settlement have determined the destiny of our country as 
a whole. 

So far as is known to the writer, no attempt has hitherto 
been made to relate the story of these events in a con- 
nected order, free from extraneous details and adapted to 
the comprehension and tastes of younger readers. Park- 
man, in his monumental series of historical narratives, has 
told this story in connection with many others having but 
slight relation to the Old Northwest; Justin Winsor, in 
his very scholarly volumes relating to the French régime 
in America, has done the same. But the works of these 
writers are too voluminous for general readers, and being 
designed for mature thinkers they fail to be attractive to 
the majority of young people just beginning to acquire a 
taste for historical reading. The author of this volume, 


192421 


4 Preface 


while indebted to Winsor and Parkman and many other 
writers for the facts which he relates, has followed his 
own method of telling the story, keeping always in mind 
as the central thought the discovery and development of 
the Old Northwest and its final conquest for freedom and 
civilization. 

He has not attempted a complete history, but rather a 
connected series of sketches, selecting from the very large 
number of events and incidents that might have been 
related those which seemed to him most necessary to the 
interest and the continuous unfolding of the narrative. 
It is confidently believed that young readers of these 
sketches will rise from their perusal with some new con- 
ceptions of the history of our country, and especially of 
that portion of it which seems destined to be —if it is not 
already — the “commanding field whence men and insti- 
tutions will communicate their will to the nation.” 


CONGR NEES 


HOW THE GREAT LAKES WERE DISCOVERED 


THE First APPROACH 


I. Jacques Cartier . : ‘ : : . ‘ fats 
II. Hochelaga . : : : : ; : : mete y 
III. Mont Royal : ; : : ; : : =, eae 
THE CLOSED GATEWAY 
I. Samuel de Champlain : ‘ : : ; ee? 
II. Iroquois and Hurons . ; ; : : 5 a E20 
III. The Beginning of a Long Struggle. ‘ : tae 


IV. Etienne Brulé . “ i : : : : caress 
V7 The Fur Traders : : : : ; : 5:5 IE36 
VI. Place Royale. é ‘ : ; : - ee’: 


AN IMAGINARY DISCOVERER 
I. Ambitious Dreams . : 3 ; ‘ ; - ae Ad 
II. The Talk of Paris : : : ; : : ee te 
III. The Ascent of the Ottawa . ‘ : : ; AS 
IV. The Tabagie at Chief Tessouat’s : : : aes 


THE FIRST OF THE GREAT LAKES 
I. A Brother of the Récollets . : : : : Feit: 
II. The Wilderness Way : : ; ; : epee | 
III. The Mer Douce of the Hurons . 5 : ‘ of eLOr 


THE SECOND OF THE GREAT LAKES 
I. The Treaty with the Hurons, . : ; . a A 
ites -touacha -, : : : : : ; ; ea OF 


III. The Discovery of Lake Ontario . 
IV. The Raid upon the Iroquois 


THE THIRD OF THE GREAT LAKES 
I. The Young Man from Normandy 
II. The Scouts of the Wilderness 
III. The Governor’s Commission 
IV. The Discovery of Lake Michigan 
V. The Men of the Fetid Sea . 
VI. The “Father of Waters” 


THE JESUIT MISSIONARIES 
I. The Residence of Sainte Marie . 
II. The Sault Sainte Marie ; 
III. The Captivity of Father Jogues . 
IV. The Dispersal of the Hurons 


THE FOURTH OF THE GREAT LAKES 
I. Two Daring Fur Traders 


II. The Manitou of the Copper Mines 


THE FIFTH OF THE GREAT LAKES 
I. The Hidden Water 
II. Louis Joliet i ; 
III. The First Voyagers on Lake Erie 
IV. A Remarkable Meeting 


HOW THE GREAT RIVERSYWERE EXE LOREE 


THE BEAUTIFUL RIVER 
L.A salle 
II. La Chine 
III. La Belle Riviére . 


PAGE 


131 
133 
137 


ON THE UPPER LAKES 


I. 


II. 
AIT: 
IV. 

V. 
VI. 

VAGE 


Ménard 

Allouez 

Marquette . 

ot. Esprit 
Dollier and Galinée 
St. Ignace . 


Saint-Lusson 


THE HIppEN RIVER 


Le 
It. 


FROM CATARAQUI TO CREVECG:UR 


ie 
lee 


VAR 
VII. 


The Explorer and the Missionary 


The Fox and the Wisconsin 


The Voyage 
The Return 


The Mission of the Illinois 


Cataraqui 

Fort Frontenac . 
Niagara 

The Griffon 

The St. Joseph . 
The Kankakee 


Crévecceur . 


THE UPPER MISSISSIPPI 


Ii 
ae 


Accault and Hennepin 
The Sioux . 

The Captives 

The Grand Hunt 
Duluth 

Tonty and Membré 


PAGE 


PAGE 
TO THE GREAT RIVER’S MOUTH 
I. At Fort Miamis . : - . : 2 ‘ ; véae 
II. From Fort Frontenac to Natchez : : » 224 
III. Louisiana . 5 : : : ; : : Spee hy 
LA SALLE’s LAST ENTERPRISE 
I. Fort St."Louis‘on the Illinois : : : M230 
II. The Lost Colony ; ; : : : : ee: 
Iii hesbnd ora Great Lites. : ; ; Pee 
HOW THE FIRST SETTLEMENTS WERE MADE 
FRENCH LIFE IN THE NORTHWEST 
I. The Settlements , : ‘ : : . 237 
II. The Settlers : : : - ; : : no eee 
III. The Christian Indians : : : : : 2a 
IV. A Day ina French Village : : : : roel 
THE POSTS ON THE LAKES 
I. ?Mackinac =. : : : : : 4 : At. by 
II. Detroit : ; j é ? ‘ : » “248 
THE FIREBRANDS OF THE WEST 
I. The Fight at Detroit . ‘ : : : Bee: 
II. The Little Hill of the Dead . : : : . 258 
III. The Quenching of the Firebrands : : ; 5200 
AFTER WORD . : : : : : : : : + 22 


INDEX : . : : ; : : ° : : @ a7 


pE iE el) Pos ON eye 


OF 


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DOW =i GREAT EAKBS WERE 
WIS GOVE REE) 


AE SU SSO ASSS A Pe I RARA OV eNO | 


I. JACQUES CARTIER 


le you look at the map of Canada you 
will see that the city of Montreal is 
at the meeting place of two great rivers. 
From the southwest comes the mighty flood 
of the St. Lawrence, smooth and placid 
above, then rushing down rocky and 
dangerous rapids, and here expanding 
into a small but beautiful bay before 
proceeding on its majestic way to the distant . 
sea. From the west comes the Ottawa, a . 
smaller stream, which, before losing itself ab aaah 
in the St. Lawrence, divides into several channels, thus 
enclosing on three sides the Island of Montreal. 

To this place, somewhat more than three hundred and 

ee fifty years ago, there came a party of French- 
men with their leader, Jacques Cartier. They 
were the first white men that had ever sailed up the 
broad current of the St. Lawrence. Cartier had been 
sent out by the king of France to discover new lands 


II 


12 The First Approach 


and, if possible, find a water way through which ships 
might sail westward from the Atlantic Ocean to the South 
Sea, as people then called the Pacific. He had discovered 

and named the Gulf of St. Law- 
rence, and afterwards, leaving his 


largest vessels in a safe harbor, had 
gone on with a single ship to 
explore the broad, mysterious river 
whose sources were hidden in 
the western wilderness. No 
one at that time imagined that 
the continent of North Amer- 
ica was very broad even at its 
broadest part; and Cartier 
fondly hoped that this stream 
“> was the water way which he 
sought. 
Some time before reaching the place 
where the Ottawa joins the St. Law- 
= oe rence, the ship ran into shallow water 


— 


Pn 


Peis pone te and was grounded. But Cartier was in 

with a single ship’? no mind to give up his venture. He 
ordered the boats to be launched, and in these the com- 
pany pushed onward up the river — now threading their 
way through a maze of wooded islands, now hesitating 
whether to follow the right hand channel or the left, and 
at last emerging into a broad expanse of smooth water 
with timbered shores stretching far on either side. 

The whole country seemed like a fairyland. The time 


was autumn, and the sun shone dimly through the smoky 


Jacques Cartier a 


haze that filled the air. The early frost had already 
touched the leaves and changed their green to garnet and 
crimson and gold. The nuts were falling, and the. vines 
which trailed over bush and tree and hung in festoons 
down to the water’s edge were loaded with clusters of 
purplish grapes. Squirrels frisked among the branches, 
and wild deer cropped the herbage in the open glades ; 
blackbirds and thrushes scolded in the thickets, and water- 
fowl of various kinds swam in the creeks and sheltered 
inlets. 

And now among the trees on their right the Frenchmen 
saw scores of Indians running. With signs of friendship 
the savages beckoned to the 
white strangers to approach the 
shore, and with songs and 


dancing they welcomed them 
to their woodland home. 

That night Jacques 
Cartier and his men en- 
camped on the beach of 
the island now known as 
the Island of Montreal. 
Along the river banks 
and among the trees bonfires were blazing, and in the 
light of these the Indians danced and rejoiced. They 
thought that the Frenchmen were superior beings from 
another world, and they hailed their coming as the begin- 
ning of new and happier times—times foretold by their 
wise men, when there should be no more toil nor sickness 
nor pain. 


‘«Wild deer cropped the herbage” 


14 The First Approach 


H. HOCHELAGA 


Early on the following morning Cartier and his com- 
panions set out to visit the Indian town of Hochelaga, 
which stood near the center 
of the island. The fame of 
this town was known among 
the Indians far and near, 
and Cartier had heard of 
its grandeur while still hun- 
dreds of miles down the river. 
Guided by the glad natives, 
and following a path through 
the thick woods, the French- 
men soon came to a broad clearing in which were fields of 


=> 


“ These palisades were of logs”’ 


ripened corn; and beyond these were other fields where 
the ground was covered with green and yellow pumpkins, 
emblems of peace and plenty. 

Having passed around to. the farther side of the clearing, 
they found themselves in front of the tall palisades that 
encircled the homes of the Indians. These palisades were 
of logs set on end and ranged in three parallel rows three 
or four feet apart. Those of the middle row stood up- 
right; but those of the outer and inner rows were leaned 
towards each other until their tops met and sometimes 
overlapped. Along the inside of this strange wall were 
strong platforms, or scaffokls, on which were piles of 
stones and other missiles ready to be hurled down upon 
the heads of any foes that might approach too near or 
try to scale the palisades. 


Flochelaga 15 


Passing through a narrow gateway, the Frenchmen 
entered the village. Here were about fifty houses, built 
in the strange, rude fashion common among the natives of 
that region. Each house was more than a hundred feet 
in length, and at least forty feet in width. It was built 
of poles, and covered and weatherboarded with sheets of 


i Py SNS == : 
to Sa ‘vem a 7 eine 
ae et, Mi: sig alt a i bin ng 
ott Vids le A iM ey Phi Mf i } 

—~ oe hi mi malt Gi A me ‘i vik nek 


ee 


Rig Gee =a ae eee 


ae 
hagas epi le on = 
a Ss ee 


vot PRU 


‘‘Fach house was more than a hundred feet in length"’ 


bark. The roof was quite low and had many openings, 
under each of which was a place for a fire. Each fire- 
place was the center of a home, and therefore the number 
of families in a house was always the same as the number 
of holes in the roof. 

Jacques Cartier and his men were led to the center of 
this strange village, where there was a kind of public 
square. And now the women and children came running 
from the houses, with wondering looks and cries of pleas- 
ure,.to welcome the white strangers. They seemed not at 
all afraid, but filled with delight, as at the coming of well- 
known and long expected friends. They gazed curiously 
at the Frenchmen’s weapons and their brilliant armor. 
They touched the beard, the hair, the cheeks of Cartier, 
as if to make sure that it was not all a dream. Then 
they brought mats which they spread upon the ground, 


16 The First Approach 


and the strangers were asked to sit down in the presence 
of the chief of the nation. 

This chief was very old and so helpless that he had to 
be carried on a litter of deerskins by four of his most 
trusted men. With signs and gestures he welcomed the 
strangers to Hochelaga; and then he made a short speech 


‘‘ They seemed not at ali afraid’’ 


which seemed very eloquent and very earnest, but which the 
Frenchmen could not understand. In closing he pointed 
to his helpless, shrunken limbs, as if imploring aid, and 
spoke in piteous tones as though praying to be healed by 
the white man’s touch. 

What could Cartier do but humor the fancy of the poor 
old savage? He laid his hands upon him; he touched his 
legs, his feet; he stroked his long, thin hair. Then he 


TTochelaga 17 


spoke of a Healer greater than himself who had gone 
about curing the sick and giving sight to the blind and 
raising the dead. The old chief understood not a word, 
but his face beamed with hope, and his lips moved as if 
expressing thanks. Then he gave to Cartier a little coro- 
net of red-dyed porcupine quills which he had worn upon 
his head as a sign of power. It was the gift of a reverent 
and grateful heart. 

Soon from all the houses others came to be cured. The 
sick, the lame, the blind were led and carried to the spot 
where the wonderful white man sat. It was a pitiable 
throng — but all were happy because they believed that a 
god had come to heal them of their infirmities. The heart 
of the French captain was deeply moved, and he could 
not tell them of their mistake. As each one was brought 
before him he touched the diseased part and made the 
sign of the cross. Then he uttered a prayer for their 
benighted souls, and dismissed them with his blessing. 
The poor savages said not a word, but, with awe in their 
hearts, looked their grateful thanks to the strange being 
who was showing them so great kindness. 

When all the feeble and sick had been disposed of, Car- 
tier caused presents to be distributed freely. To the men 
he gave knives and hatchets ; to the women he gave beads 
and pewter rings; and among the children he flung small 
pictures and images, and bright bits of colored glass. 
Then, to the great astonishment of the natives, the 
French buglers blew their horns, and strains of music 
such as had never before been heard in that wild land 


rose above the palisades and floated out over the fields, 
OLD NORTHWEST — 2 


18 | The First Approach 


and were echoed back from the woods and hills. The 
white strangers rose from their seats, and, following the 
lead of their captain, marched in military order through 
the village and out of the inclosure by the same gate 
through which they had entered. 

It had been the greatest day ever known in Hochelaga, 
and the people were loath to see their visitors depart. 
The women followed them to the gate and pressed upon 
them gifts of fish and corn and other food more than they 
could carry. The men also followed, nor did they turn 
back so soon. They wanted to serve the strangers, and 
do them further honor by showing them the greatness and 
beauty of the land in which they lived. 


II. MONT ROYAL 


On the side of the village opposite the cornfields there 
was a lofty hill, the wooded slopes of which were gay with 
all the colors which autumn foliage bears. It seemed so 
much higher than the surrounding country that Jacques 
Cartier wondered whether he might not from the top of 
it catch sight of the great western ocean—the South Sea 
which the Spaniard, Balboa, twenty years before, had 
beheld from the peaks of Darien. He asked the Indians 
about it, but they could not understand. Nevertheless, they 
showed him the easiest path up the steep and rocky slope, 
and would even have carried him over the roughest places. 

As Cartier climbed up, step by step, he was charmed 
by the wild beauty of the hill itself no less than by the 
ever widening landscape that opened to his view. 


Mont Royal 19 


“This,” said he, ‘is truly a royal mountain, a kingly 
landmark in the midst of the new and vast domain that 
I have added to the Crown of France. Its name shall be 
Mont Royal.” 

And Mont Royal (Mont Reéal) it is still called; and the 
noble city, which now stands where then were Indian 


ee 


ag Wh: 9. Sere afl fl 
SS in 


‘“The noble city . . . where then were Indian cornfields’’ 


cornfields and the forest red with autumn leaves, is 
known by the same name — Montreal. 

When, at last, after much climbing, Cartier reached the 
top of the mountain, a wonderful vision met his gaze. 
Looking eagerly toward the west he saw no sign of the 
vast sea which was the chief object of his thoughts; but, 
far as eye could reach, he beheld a succession of forest 
plains and wooded hills stretching away and away until 
they seemed to meet and mingle with the hazy sky. 


20 The first Approach 


Directly in front of him, but miles away, he saw the St. 
Lawrence emerging, as it were, from the mysterious West, 
and then, as it approached, broadening into the beautiful 
expanse since known as Lake St. Louis, from which, sud- 
denly narrowing, it dashed in an impetuous flood down 
the rapids, called in later years Lachine. ‘Then, very near 
upon his left, Cartier saw the same river spreading out 
into a quiet bay, its waters gleaming like a mirror in the 
autumn sunlight, while his own boats lay moored to the 
nearest shore. Turning a little to the right, he caught 
glimpses of the Ottawa, now expanding into beautiful 
lakes, now dashing over rocky rapids and losing itself in 
winding channels among overhanging trees, and at last 
pouring its flood of waters into the St. Lawrence. 

Of the strange secrets hidden in the wilderness before 
him, Jacques Cartier could never have dreamed. He 
could not have guessed that the far solitudes towards 
which his eyes were directed would in time become the 
home of millions of happy people. No fancy of his 
could have whispered that just beyond his line of vision 
were fresh-water lakes larger than half the kingdom 
of France, and that upon their shores would spring up 
cities greater than any he had ever seen. That he was 
still more than two thousand miles from the object of his 
quest, the great western ocean, he could by no means have 
imagined. But west, north, east, south,—farther than 
eye could pierce,—the same riddle presented itself of 
woods and hills and silent wastes, and the hazy sky 
dome bending over all. He was indeed in the midst of 
an unknown land. From the Gulf of Mexico to the 


Mont Royal 21 


northern seas there was not one spot where a white 
man had his dwelling; indeed, the men who were to 
make the earliest settlements in that region were not 
yet born. 

When Jacques Cartier at last descended from the royal 
mount, and, with his men, returned to the boats, he had 
given up the thought of finding there an easy passage 
through the continent. To venture farther up the St. 
Lawrence was clearly impossible; for what vessel could 
stem its turbulent rapids? To ascend the Ottawa might 
be easier, but this would most likely lead the voyager 
only deeper and deeper into the wilderness. So, bidding 
good-bye to the simple-hearted natives who watched them 
from the shore, the Frenchmen turned their boats down- 
stream, and, aided by the current, soon reached the ships 
that were waiting for them in the safe harbor far below. 
They had not discovered a passage to the South Sea; but 
they had penetrated the continent farther than any other 
Europeans had yet ventured, and in the name of the king 
of France they had taken possession of an unknown coun- 
try which might yet become the source of measureless 
wealth and power. 

The region known to.us as the Old Northwest, with 
its countless lakes and streams and its trackless woods 
and prairies, was still untrodden by the feet of civilized 
man; but Jacques Cartier, without knowing it, had visited 
the gateway by which it was to be approached from the 
east, and from the top of Mont Royal he had seen on the 
distant horizon the faint lines that marked a portion of its 
boundary. 


THES CLOSED GATT a 
I. SAMUEL DE CHAMPLAIN 


T was a long time before the island at the meeting of 
the rivers was again visited by white men. In the 
meanwhile many changes took place both in the Old 
World and in the New. ‘In 
France the king and _ his 
courtiers had so much to do 
to keep crown and country 
from falling into the hands 
of their enemies that they 
had no time to think of lands 
and peoples beyond the sea; 
and so the discoveries of 


Jacques Cartier were almost 
forgotten. In the wilderness by the St. Lawrence tragedy 
upon tragedy had been enacted. The feeble old chief at 
Hochelaga had died and been forgotten; and younger 
chiefs had grown up and become aged in the shadow of 
Mont Royal. Then dreadful days had dawned. The 
woods and river banks rang, time and again, with the 
whoops of savage foes, and the waters were reddened 
with the blood of the slain. The cornfields were over- 
run and trodden down by fighting warriors; the strong 
palisades were overturned and the village was taken by 


22 


Samuel de Champlain 23 


storm; the long houses were pillaged and burned; the 
island echoed with the groans of the dying, the shrieks of 
captive women and children, and the shouts and jeers of 
the pitiless victors. 

Then, for many years, there was silence and solitude. 
Dense thickets of underbrush grew up where the village 


View on the St. Lawrence 


had stood, and thorns and briers flourished where the 
corn had rustled’ and grown ripe in the autumn sun. 
Wolves hunted among the trees, and bears sunned them- 
selves on the river’s bank; and no savage huntsman ever 
disturbed them or made them afraid. No sounds were 
heard save those of wildest nature, the chattering of 
squirrels, the cries of waterfowls, the twittering of birds, 


24 . The Closed Gateway 


and now and then the fierce growl of some beast of prey 
or the scream of its helpless victim. 

Sixty-eight years passed, and then on a certain day in 
early summer another ship of France sailed up the St. 
ee Lawrence, and another party of French explorers 

appeared at the meeting place of the two rivers, 
at the closed gateway to the great Northwest. 

The leader of this party was Samuel de Champlain, 
a gentleman of Saintonge in the west of France. He had 
been a captain in the royal navy, and had 
done some brave deeds in the service of his 
master, King Henry the Fourth. More 
lately he had commanded a Spanish vessel 
on the high seas, and had made a voyage 
of adventure to the West Indies and the 
coast of Mexico. And now, still young and 
ambitious, he had come to carry into these 


new lands on the St. Lawrence the banner 


Champlain 


of the French king and the cross of the 
Catholic faith. It was his wish to do more. He fondly 
hoped that, by exploring the great water courses of New 
France, as the country was called, he might accomplish 
that which Cartier had failed to do, and discover the long- 
sought northern passage to the western ocean. 

Champlain and his companions landed on the Island of 
Montreal, but they received no such welcome as that with 
which Jacques Cartier had been greeted. From river to 
river there was no sign of human life. Nothing remained 
to show that the place had ever been visited by man. 
Climbing to the top of Mont Royal, the Frenchmen 


Samuel de Champlain 25 


scanned the country far and near, but only the great 
forest and the rivers and the distant hills could they 
discover. 

The next day they explored the shore to the point 
where the river, coming down from the west, makes an 
elbow turn to the north. There they found themselves at 
the foot of the turbulent rapids which had deterred Cartier 
from proceeding farther. Surely no vessel, not even the 
stanchest boat, could ever make its way against the wild 
torrent which leaped and foamed down this long. and 
rough incline. The wished-for and long-dreamed-of water 
route to the South Sea was plainly not through this dan- 
gerous and impassable channel. 

At the foot of the great rapids Champlain met a small 
party of Indians who had come there to catch fish. They 
were gruff, silent fellows, half afraid of the white strangers 
and yet inclined to be friendly. Some of them had been 
among the French traders near the mouth of the St. Law- 
rence, and were able to understand a few simple words 
when spoken to. From them Champlain tried to learn 
something about the country through which the two great 
rivers flowed, and whether the sources of these streams 
were near the western ocean. These Indians, however, 
could not tell him much. They knew but very little, and 
since they could speak French no better than he could 
speak their tongue, his curiosity was only whetted by the 
few vague facts that he could learn from them. 

One day the chief of the band visited Champlain on 
board of his vessel. The Frenchman, by signs and such 
words as they knew in common, urged him to tell all that 


26 The Closed Gateway 


he knew about the great river. How far was it to the 
head of these rapids? Was the current above them 
smooth or swift?) Was the stream wide or narrow? From 
what place did all this flood of waters come ? 

The Indian told him that there were many rapids in the 
St. Lawrence, and that, after passing them all, one would 
come to a lake in which there were many islands. At 
the end of this lake there was a high waterfall around 
which a canoe might be carried to a smaller lake beyond. 
This lake was sixty leagues in length, and the water was 
fresh and sweet. It opened at its farther extremity into 
a short but very broad river through which one might 
pass into a much greater lake. “But,” said he, “none 
of my people have ever visited that lake, and no man 
living has seen its farther shore.” 

Then he took a piece of charcoal and drew a rude map 
on the deck. He showed how the stream, above the 
rapids, was very wide, forming what is now called Lake 
St. Louis, and how it there receives the main part of the 
Ottawa. Then, by a few rough strokes, he showed other 
rapids and other wide expanses, and again still more rapids. 

“Great fall! Very great fall!’’ he said, making a heavy 
black line. And finally, with a flourish of the charcoal, 
he exclaimed, “Great water! Very great water!” and 
strode away as having no more to Say. 

Champlain believed that the distant lake of which the 
savage had spoken was connected with the western ocean, 
and he half resolved to push forward. He thought that 
if he could only make his way to the head of the first 
rapids, he might succeed equally well with those above 


Samuel de Champlain a 


and at last reach the source of the mysterious river, and 
discover the “great water’ beyond. A light skiff was 
made ready for the dangerous ascent, and strong Indians 
with poles and paddles undertook to guide it against the 
rushing flood. But before they had climbed twenty 
yards the frail vessel was dashed against the rocks and 
overturned, and Champlain was glad to 
escape with his life to the shore. 


He now saw clearly that with the 
means at his command it was impos- 
Sipic to, ascend the St. Lawrence ~~ 
farther. He felt that by report- 
ing the matter promptly to his 74 


friends and the king, he might 
be permitted to lead thither 
another expedition better pre- 
pared to overcome the diffi- 
culties that were in the way. 


re 


than take note of the place ¢ 44’, GEE fe / 
Destesuited: for <a fort’ or | 


And so, without doing more 


‘*A rude map on the deck”’ 


trading post, the French cap- 
tain turned his vessel about and sailed for France. 

He was now more anxious than ever to renew his 
quest of a northern passage to the Pacific Ocean. He 
wished also to establish settlements on the St. Lawrence, 
and open up trade with the natives; for he had found that 
the country was not so poor and profitless a place as had 
been supposed. While slowly making his way up the 
river, he had taken pains to secure the friendship of the 


28 


The Closed Gateway 


Indians through whose hunting grounds it flowed. These 
often brought to the ship the furry hides of wild animals 


—of beavers, foxes, otters, and lynxes, —-and were glad 
to barter them for knives, hatchets, and trinkets 
industry ? 


might not this trade in furs be developed into a 


Why 
to yield wealth greater even than that derived from the 
mines of Mexico and Peru? 


great 
Why might not the pathless forest be 


made 
It was with thoughts such as these that Champlain 


presented himself at the court of the French king, and 
with patient argument tried to arouse among the wealthy 
exploration 


nobles some kind of active interest in his scheme of 
II. IROQUOIS AND HURONS 


For five years Champlain was obliged to direct his ener- 


5 
gies toward other projects of discovery and colonization 
A Nee 


FE 


1608 


ai: h i 


At length, how- 


ever, fortune 
md favored him, and he 
. "ee again sailed into the St. 
wT mi i _ mi Lawrence, this time pre- 
~ Sat Ley = = és = ‘ Sy \ . P 
My i NESS 


ared to do more than 
‘* Strong blockhouses were built 


make a merely passing 
visit. 


But he stopped 

far short of the Island 

of Montreal. He had 

decided to build a fort and trading post at the point since 


called Quebec ; and for many busy months he was occupied 
in that task. Near the site of the present market place of 


Lroquots and FHurons 29 


the lower town of Quebec, strong blockhouses were built, 
tall palisades were erected, and the whole was surrounded 
by a deep moat. At last, when all had been made secure, 
and the soldiers and traders were rejoicing over their 
work, Champlain felt that the time had come for him 
to continue the explorations which had so long been 
interrupted. 

In the meanwhile he had taken pains to learn all that 
he could about the savages into whose country he had 
come.) He was told that south of the St. 
Lawrence was the home of a people so 


fierce and cruel and warlike that all 
the surrounding tribes lived in con- 
stant dread of them. They eA 
called themselves the Ho- = ) 
denosaunee, or People 
of the Long House. 
They lived as _ five 


great families, and they compared their country to one 
vast house with five fires blazing in it, and a thousand 
warriors dancing around each fire. The French after- 
ward called these Indians the Iroquois, from their habit 
of ending every important statement with the word “ Iro,” 
which means, ‘I have said it.” It is by this name that 
they are generally known in history; and it is by this 
name that we shall call them. Their five great families 
were really five united tribes — the Mohawks, the Oneidas, 
the Onondagas, the Cayugas, and the Senecas; and for 
this reason the English in later years called them the 
“Five Nations.” Their country included all of northern 


30 The Closed Gateway 


and middle New York, extending east and west from the 
Hudson to the Genesee. 

Champlain learned also that, far to the west of the 
Island of Montreal, there lived another nation, less war- 
like and cruel, who called themselves Ouendats. They 
were kinsmen of the People of the Long House, but 
between the two nations there was 
undying hatred; and many and bloody 
were the battles that had been fought, 
sometimes in the land of the Iroquois 
and sometimes in that of the Ouendats. 
Like the Iroquois, the Ouendats lived 
in villages, each village containing a 
number of long houses, and each 
house having several fireplaces. The 
French people who came with Cham- 
plain called them, not Ouendats, but 
Hurons, because of the grotesque 
manner in which they wore their 
hair —the French word ure mean- 


ing ‘“shock-head.” The descendants 
of these Hurons are now called Wyandots, the name being 
merely an English variation of the old word Ouendats. 
Between the two rival nations —the Iroquois and the 
Hurons—lived many scattered tribes, speaking languages 
somewhat alike, and claiming some sort of distant kin- 
ship. But they were, for the most part, strangers to one 
another, each tribe living to itself and defending itself as 
best it could against their common foe, the dreaded Iro- 
quois. They did not dwell in long houses, but each family 


Troquois and Hurons ae 


had its own rude wigwam, built of poles and bark, and 
many of them had no settled homes. Among the first 
of these people to make friends with the French were 
some bands who lived in the woods far up the Ottawa 
and called themselves Algonquins; and this name soon 
came to be used by both English and French to desig- 
nate almost any Indians who were neither Hurons nor 
Iroquois. 

In the autumn of 1608 there came to the newly built 
fort at Quebec a young chief from the banks of the 
Ottawa. He was filled with wonder at what he saw there, 
and was eager to make a treaty of friendship with Cham- 
plain. Would not the great white chief help his tribe in 
the war which they were waging against the Iroquois? In 
return for such service, he promised the friendship, not 
only of his Algonquin tribe and kinsmen, but also that of 
the remote Ouendats, or Hurons; and he assured Cham- 
plain that when they had once beaten the Iroquois in 
battle he would guide him to the upper waters of the 
Ottawa, whence there was no doubt that he could easily 
reach the great western water beyond. 

Champlain was very willing to make a treaty with this 
Ottawa -chief. He thought that, by giving his aid to the 
tribes unfriendly to the Iroquois, he might subdue those 
warlike savages, of whose power he knew so little, and 
at the same time secure the friendship of the Hurons, 
whose help would be of the greatest value to him in his 
exploration of the west. Pledges. were therefore ex- 
changed. The young chief promised that, with the 
opening of spring, he would bring a host of warriors and 


32 - The Closed Gateway 


a fleet of canoes down the St. Lawrence to Quebec; and 
Champlain promised that he would give the Algonquins 
every possible aid, and accompany them in their descent 
upon the enemy’s country. The matter being thus 
arranged, the chief hurried home to tell his people of 
the league which he had made with the French captain, 
and to prepare his young braves for the war path. 


lil. THE BEGINNING OF A LONG STRUGGLE 


And so, in the early spring we hear of Champlain at the 
head of a dusky war party that is stealthily making its 
way by water southward into the land of the 

1609 = . . 

Iroquois. The party is chiefly composed of half- 
naked savages from the north and west — Montagnais 
Indians from the neighborhood of Quebec, Algonquins, 
Ottawas from the distant river that still bears their name, 
and a few Hurons from the heart of the unknown wilder- 
ness beyond. With them, besides Champlain, are eleven 
Frenchmen armed with arquebuses—weapons at once 
mysterious and terrible to the savages, who know nothing 
of gunpowder, and carry only bows and arrows, stone 
hatchets, and stone-pointed lances. 

From Quebec they paddle up the St. Lawrence to the 
mouth of the stream since known as the river Sorel, or 
Richelieu. Then into this smaller stream they turn their 
canoes, and, facing the noonday sun, they move steadily 
onward, now gliding silently over long stretches of placid 
water, and now forcing their way through swirling rapids 
or against the steady flow of the deeper currents. The 


The Beginning of a Long Struggle 33 


savages are pleased with the wildness of the woods on 
either hand; they grow tired of the labor of paddling, and 
go ashore to rest and have a feast. They quarrel, and 
most of them return to their homes, glad of an excuse to 
avoid a meeting with the Iroquois. Sixty warriors with 
twenty-four canoes remain faithful and continue the jour- 
ney, led by Champlain and two of his Frenchmen. | 

Soon, to the great joy of all, they enter the beautiful 
Jake which is to bear through all coming ages the name 


of its brave discoverer, 
Champlain. They skirt the west- 
ern shore of the lake, moving 


ES with much caution, for they are 
now on the outskirts of the 

pean: , enemy’s country. They venture for- 
‘Champlain advances ; : : 
ward only at night, lying hidden 
among the trees during the day. The bravest of the 
Ottawas tremble secretly at the thought of a contest 
With the fierce warriors of the Long House. 

At length, near the place afterward known as Crown 
Point, they are discovered by a band of Iroquois, and both 
parties prepare for battle. There are some two hundred 
of the enemy, —tall, strong men, the fiercest warriors in 
all America,—and the boastful invaders from the St. 
Lawrence have good reason to fear. But now Champlain 


OLD NORTHWEST — 3 


24 ee The Closed Gateway 


advances, clad in glittering armor, his arquebus in his 
hand. The lords of the forest pause in wonder, for this 
is their first sight of a white man. He takes aim with his 
arquebus; there is a flash, a sound like thunder, and an 
Iroquois chief falls dead. For a moment the astonished 
warriors stand their ground, and send a shower of arrows 
toward their foes. Then comes the sound of another gun- 
shot, and another chief tumbles to the ground. Terror 
fills the hearts of men who have never before felt fear, and 
the Iroquois flee in dismay. 

It is a great victory; but the delighted Ottawas and 
Hurons are in no mind to go farther into the enemy’s 
country. They hasten home to boast of their brave deeds 
and amuse themselves by torturing their prisoners. Cham- 
plain can do nothing but return to his new fortress at 
Quebec, there to plan other expeditions into the wilder- 
ness. He little thinks of the consequences that will fol- 
low his great victory. He does not know that on account 
of their bitter humiliation the Iroquois will henceforth 
cherish an undying hatred toward the French. Had he 
made friends with them instead of exciting their wrath, he 
might have opened to the French all the country south 
of the St. Lawrence and found an easy way of access to 
the Hudson River and the Atlantic; and in such case 
the whole history of America would have been changed. 
But now the fierce People of the Long House will stand like 
an impassable wall to oppose any southward movement; 
they will barricade the shortest way to the western lakes, 
and for a hundred years they will dispute with the French 
the possession of the forests and streams of the interior. 


Litienne Brulé 35 


IV. ETIENNE BRULE 


From his Indian allies Champlain had heard vague 


’ 


stories of the ‘‘ great water’ in the West, and his dream 
of discovering a passage to the South Sea was revived. 
He had also an eye to trade and profit in this vast 
territory which Jacques Cartier’s discovery had given to 
France. The Hurons had told him of a land where the 
rocks were of pure copper; the Ottawas had spoken of 
forests where fur-bearing animals waited only for the 
trapper and the trader. Here, then, was a land full 
of golden promises, offering rich rewards to the person 
that should explore it and help to develop its resources. 
But Champlain needed men and ships before he could” 
accomplish more, and in the hope of procuring them he 
hastened to make another visit to France. 

Early in the following spring the brave captain was 
again at Quebec, with stores for his little colony, but with- 
out the aid which he had hoped to obtain for 
his western enterprise. Soon there came chiefs 


1610 


from the Hurons and the Ottawas and other Algonquin 
tribes repeating their story of wrongs suffered from the 
Iroquois. 

“Do but help us destroy these enemies of ours,” they 
said, ‘““and we will lead you to the great water, we will 
be your brothers, we will help you to everything you 
wish.” 

Another campaign was therefore planned against the 
common enemy, and in June another fleet of canoes with 
a host of savage warriors was making its way toward the 


30 . The Closed Gateway 


haunts of the Iroquois. Champlain and four French sol. 
diers armed with arquebuses were in the van, and to them 
the Indians looked for victory. | 
The war party had scarcely reached the mouth of the 
Richelieu when they encountered a band of Iroquois 
intrenched behind a barricade of trees. A terrible battle 
followed, and the end would have been defeat had not a 
boat load of French fur traders arrived just in time to save 


‘‘ The dreadful fire of the arquebuses ’ 


the day. The Iroquois were not able to stand against the 
dreadful fire of the arquebuses, and were finally forced to 
retreat, leaving more than half of their party dead on the 
field, or prisoners in the hands of their foes. 

As in the previous campaign, the savages had no 
thought of following up their success. One such victory 
was enough for one year. Hurons and Ottawas loaded 
their canoes with prisoners and scalps and other battle 


LU . 
Etienne Brulé 37 


trophies, and made ready to return at once to their vil- 
Jages and hunting grounds. Champlain would have gone 
with them had not his duties forbidden. He was anxious 
to see the Hurons in their homes, and, above all, to dis- 
cover the great water which was said to border their 
country on the west; but this was now impossible. He 
cast about him to learn if any man in his company was 
willing to undertake the long and perilous journey, living 
the life of a savage, for the sake of spying out the secrets 
of the wilderness. Not one was brave enough. 

But young Etienne Brulé, whom Champlain had brought 
-with him as a servant from France, said, “Let me go, 
master. I am not afraid.” 

“What! You, Etienne?” 

“Yes. Iwill go home with the Hurons and live with 
them until you send for me. I will see all the country 
that I can. I will learn their language. I will make 
myself used to their way of living, and be as much of a 
savage as any of them.” 

“Etienne, I am proud of you,” said Champlain. “You 
will be worth more to me than a dozen men. You shall 
do as you say.” 

The Indians refused at first to take the lad. ‘‘ What if 
our poor fare and hard life should disagree with him and 
he should die? The white chief will blame us for it and 
make war upon us.” 

“ True,” answered Champlain, “if you should be unkind 
to the boy or harm him purposely I would surely punish 
you. But I know that you will take good care of him and 
treat him kindly, and I trust him wholly to you.” 


38 The Closed Gateway 


In the end the savages agreed to take young Brulé 
with them on condition that one of their own young men 
might go with Champlain and remain with him until the 
following summer. And so the exchange was made. 
Etienne Brulé was placed in the care of an Algonquin 
chief whose name was Iroquet and who promised to teach 
the lad the language and the lore of his nation. A young 
Huron was given to Champlain as a hostage and a pledge 
for the fair treatment of Brule; and each party promised 
the other that when the days were again at their longest 
they would meet on the Island of Montreal below the 
great rapids of the St. Lawrence. 

Etienne Brulé embarked in the canoe of his friend 
Iroquet and was soon speeding joyfully away toward the 
home of the Algonquins. He was the first white person 
to pass beyond the gateway overlooked by Mont Royal, 
ascend the Ottawa, and visit the vast forest region in the 
country of the Great Lakes. 

As for the young Indian who went with Champlain he 
was bright and quick, and soon became much attached 
to his master. He was given the name of Savignon, and 
was taken not only to Quebec but soon afterward to 
France. What a wonderful world it must have been to 
his savage mind as he walked the streets of Paris, or stood 
in the king’s palace to be gazed at by the lords and ladies 
of the court! 

“Well, Monsieur de Champlain,” asked his friends, 
“what have you accomplished by this last voyage?” 

Surely, what had he accomplished? He had struck 
another blow, inflicted another.indignity, upon the proud 


The Fur Traders 39 


Iroquois; and in doing this he had deepened the hatred of 
that people toward the French, and had caused the laying 
up of wrath the consequences of which would endure for 
more than a century to come. Had he not accomplished 
enough? 


Vee Do RU ROL RADERS 


Champlain was not the man to give way to discourage- 
ment, and besides he remembered the promise he had 
given his savage friends to meet them in the 
early summer at the foot of the great rapids. re 
In May he was again sailing up the St. Lawrence. He 
stopped for only a brief visit with the little garrison of 


Quebec, for he was now determined to push 


onward to the western goal that had so long 
tempted him. 

Stories of the great wealth of New 
France had already brought a num- 
ber of adventurers to the St. ; 


fiesta 
Lawrence, and the little post ane aie 

ee ae "7 
of Quebec was the center .2- = EEE 


of an active trade with the 
Indians. As  Champlain’s 
vessel made its way up the ‘‘Followed by thirteen boats ”’ 
river it was followed by thir- 

teen boats loaded with fur traders and their goods — 
hatchets, kettles, knives, and trinkets. The news of their 
coming had already been carried to the tribes on the 
Ottawa and to the Hurons by the mysterious western 


water. Iroquet and his Algonquin followers had been 


40 The Closed Gateway 


busy all winter, collecting furs and getting ready for the 
expected meeting with the great white chief and his men. 

Several days before the appointed time, the ship cast 
anchor in the broad stream close to the Island of Montreal. 
Sailors and traders went on shore, and a busy scene fol- 
lowed, such as Mont Royal had never before looked down 
upon. The Indians, eager for trade, were already there 
in great numbers. They had come in their light canoes, 
loaded with furs from the forest. Some had reached 
the place by the lower channel of the Ottawa; but most 
had preferred the upper passage, and, crossing the lake 
of St. Louis, had shot boldly down the long rapids with a 
dexterity and daring very astonishing to the French. 

Chief Iroquet was there, and with him was Etienne Brulé, 
none the worse for his winter in the wilderness and the 
poor fare of savage life. The lad was dressed in the rude 
toggery of the Indians, and so bronzed by the sun and 
wind that Champlain scarcely knew him. But he was in 
high spirits, and told the captain that he had been treated 
with every kindness by his Indian friends, and that, besides 
mastering their language, he had learned a great many 
things about their country and its resources. 

But the lad had very little of importance to tell Cham- 
plain about the great water beyond the country of the 
Hurons, and there is no certain proof that he had gone far 
enough westward to see it with his own eyes. He had 
come down the Ottawa with Iroquet’s band of Algonquins 
and two hundred Hurons; and in his canoe he had shot 
boldly down the great rapids,—the first white person to 
perform that perilous feat. 


Place Royale 4I 


“Four hundred other Hurons were intending to come,” 
he said, “but they heard that the Frenchmen were bring- 
ing a war party of Iroquois 
to destroy them, and were 
afraid to leave their homes.”’ 

Among those who had 
dared to come were two 
chiefs, one of them a brother 
of Savignon, the young host- 
age that had been given to 
Champlain. Savignon was 
delighted to see them. He 
told his brother that the 
white men had given him 


‘‘Champlain scarcely knew him ”’ 


plenty of food and had been 

very good to him; yet he would rather dwell with his kin 
and endure their hard fare and share their privations than 
be the French captain himself. And so another exchange 
was made, and the two youths returned, each to his own 
people, —the one happy and contented, the other restless 
and determined to escape again to the wilderness as soon 
as an opportunity offered. 


Vie boom ROYALE 


On the following day the traffic in furs and trinkets 
-began. The French traders were insolent and overbear- 
ing, and the Indians soon became alarmed. Rumors 
spread among them that it was the intention of the traders 
to fall upon them suddenly and kill them with their dread- 


42 The Closed Gateway 


ful arquebuses. Their fears increased until, in the end, 
they put their canoes upon their shoulders and by a devi- 
ous pathway carried them back to the sniooth waters of 
Lake St. Louis above the rapids. The ill-behaved traders, 
having already secured furs enough to load their boats, 


‘* Dexterous canoemen carried them down”’ 


cared little whether they went or stayed; but Champlain 
was unwilling to have his dusky allies leave him in this man- 
ner, for he counted largely on their future friendship. Tak- 
ing young Brulé with him, therefore, he followed the fleeing 
Hurons and overtook them, just as they were entering the 
Lake of Two Mountains at the mouth of the Ottawa. 
On, great white chief!” they said, ‘‘we trust in you, 
we love you. Come to our country; buy our furs; live 


Place Royale 43 


with us, and be our brother. But, we pray you, keep this 
crowd of ruffians away from us.” 

It was useless to try to persuade them to return; but 
they promised that in the following spring they would 
come again, bringing such furs as they could collect. 
Champlain, therefore, distributed presents aniong them 
and bade them good-bye. 

‘“My young men,” said one of the chiefs, ‘will take 
you down to the island much quicker than you can walk.” 

The captain and young Brulé entered a canoe that was 
in waiting, and with a swiftness that was truly alarming, 
dexterous canoemen carried them down the long succes- 
sion of falls now known as the Lachine Rapids. 

Champlain remained on the island only a few. days 
longer. He chose a site for a trading house and fort, 
and his men cleared off the trees and stones and began 
to build a wall of masonry along the river front. 

Place Royale was the name which the captain chose 
for his fort. It was on the spot where, long afterward, 
stood the Hospital of the Gray Nuns. But, before the 
small fragment of wall was completed, orders were given 
that the work should cease, and the plan was abandoned. 
Champlain summoned his men on board the ship; the 
vessel was loosed from her moorings, and, with the boats 
of the fur traders trailing in her wake, sailed slowly back 
to Quebec. The Island of Montreal was again left to its 
solitude, and the gateway to the Northwest remained for 
a little while longer the extreme limit of exploration. 


AN IMAGINARY (DISGOV ERE 
I. AMBITIOUS DREAMS 


MONG the traders who came up the river with 
Champlain, there was one young man who did not 
return to Quebec. His name 
was Nicholas Vignau, and 
he was known among his 
friends as an indo- 
1611 

lent fellow whose 
word was not always to be 
depended upon. He was of 
a roving nature, and, having 
already spent a winter or 
two in the fort at Quebec, 
he had become acquainted 
with some of the Indians 
and had learned their Jan- 
guage quite well. Irom a 
band of Algonquins who 
lived in the Ottawa country 
he had, no doubt, heard 
some vague hints of the 
creat water that was said 
to lie in the distant West. 

Had any of them seen 
this great water? 


44 


Ambitious Dreams 45 


No; but they had heard of it from their friends and 
neighbors, the Hurons, whose homes were near its shore. 

Nicholas, although not brave, was ambitious. He 
thought what a glorious thing it would be to push on 
ahead of Champlain and be the first white man to behold 
that mysterious and long-sought sea. What if it should 
indeed be the South Sea, with China, and India, and the 
golden East lying on its farther shore? He felt himself 
already a second Balboa, surveying the vast sea from the 
mountain tops, and taking possession of new worlds in 
the name of his king. 

He said nothing about the matter to his companions ; 
but from Champlain he quietly obtained leave to spend 
the winter among the Indians so as to become better ac- 
quainted with their language and customs. And, indeed, 
in doing this, he was only following the wishes of his 
captain, who thought that, by sending some of his young 
men among the Indians, he would the sooner acquire a 
complete knowledge of the country. At the great meet- 
ing on the Island of Montreal he took pains to make 
friends with certain Ottawa chiefs whose homes were 
somewhere near the source of the river that bears their 
name. The red men were pleased with his manners, and 
thought that he was very wise. Would he not go home 
with them, and live with them, that they might learn some 
of the wonderful things that he knew? 

This was just the invitation that he wanted, and he was 
not slow in accepting it. And so, when the Algonquin 
Ottawas embarked in their canoes for their toilsome home- 
ward voyage, young Vignau went with them. 


46 An Imaginary Discoverer 


ll) -THE TALK OFS PARIS 


For several months nothing was heard of the adventur- 
ous young man; but, early the next summer, just as a ship 
was leaving for France, he suddenly appeared at 
Quebec. He had come down the St. Lawrence in 
a canoe, arriving barely in time to take passage for home. 


1612 


To his friends at the fort, who were anxious to know 
where he had been, he gave no information, preferring 
to tell his adventures to other listeners. Indeed, when 
he arrived the ship was already loosed from her moor- 
ings; and by the time he had clambered upon deck she 
was well out in the stream. 

When Vignau reached Paris he had a wonderful tale 
to unfold. He said that with his Indian friends he had » 
ascended the Ottawa River for some distance; he had 
then arrived at a great lake bordered on every side by 
trackless forests; in a birch canoe he had paddled across 
this lake and had come to its chief outlet, a river, smooth- 
flowing and deep yet much larger than the Ottawa or the 
St. Lawrence; he had followed this river northward and 
found that it flowed into a vast sea which could be none 
other than the Pacific Ocean. He had stood on the shore 
of that sea, which could be reached in seventeen days, 
by canoe, from Mont Royal. He had tasted of its waters 
and found them salt. 

To this plain narrative Vignau added many tales of 
hairbreadth escapes and of wonderful feats of daring. 
The telling of them made him for the time the most 
admired hero in France. His dreams of glory seemed 


The Lalk of Paris 47 


to have come true. He was petted and flattered and 
dined and caressed until he hardly knew whether he was 
still Nicholas Vignau or some one else. 

It so happened that, at this very time, Champlain was 
also in Paris trying again to interest the nobles of France 


‘*He had a wonderful tale to unfold’”’ 


in his project of building up an empire in the valley of 
the St. Lawrence. Nothing could have helped his cause 
more than the wonderful tales of Nicholas Vignau. Men 
who had hitherto refused to listen to any of his plans now 
urged him, for the glory of France and their own profit, 
to accept their aid and push forward his explorations with 
all possible dispatch. Here, surely, was at last the long- 
sought northern passage. Champlain himself was filled 
with new hope, and he could scarcely wait for the sailing 
of the ship that was to carry him back to New France. 


yet An Imaginary Discoverer 


HI. THE ASCENT ORS Erato lass Vv 


Late in the month of May the tireless captain was 
again at the Island of Montreal, where the lower channel 
of the Ottawa unites with the St. Lawrence. 
With him, besides his Indian guides, were five 
Frenchmen, one of whom was Nicholas Vignau. The 
young man had been persuaded, much against his will, to 
return to America and pilot Champlain’s party to the 
scene of his late adventures, the great lake, and the salt 
sea beyond. Strange to say, he did not seem anxious to 
go forward, but was low-spirited and morose, sighing for 
sunny France and the gay streets of Paris. But Cham- 
plain, with his accustomed energy, was eager to push on 
without delay. The little party embarked in two small 
Indian canoes and paddled boldly up the Ottawa. 

It was a hard voyage in the face of many difficulties. 
Now the canoemen propelled their light vessels through 
smooth, lake-like expanses dotted with numerous green 
islets; now they urged their way against swift currents 
where all their strength could scarcely prevent the frail 
craft from being dashed in pieces upon the rocks; and now, 
encountering steeper rapids, that were wholly impassable, 
they were obliged to carry their canoes on their shoulders 
up long and difficult slopes, to launch them again on the 
smoother water above. On both sides of the river was 
the unending forest, so thick with underwoods that beyond 
a few paces nothing could be seen. 

At night they slept by a camp fire on the river bank, 
one of their number keeping watch. Owls hooted in the 


se 


v 
The Ascent of the Ottawa 49 


branches above them, strange noises issued from the 
thickets, the screams of wild cats and the howls of wolves 
were heard in the depths of the forest. At daybreak all 
were astir, and, having caught some fish, they broiled them 
on the coals and made a royal breakfast. Then they em- 
barked again, and, battling as before with the strong cur- 
rent, they made their slow way from point to point and 
from rapid to rapid, each stroke of their paddles carrying 
them a little farther into the unknown wilderness. 

Thus, day after day, they toiled onward. At length 
they reached that expansion of the river called Lake Cou- 
longe, above which lies the large island of the Allumettes. 
Here and beyond was the home of the Algonquins—the 
tribe which in time gave its name to the entire race of 
which it was only a single, small division. Known first 
to the French as the Nation of the Isle, this tribe is called 
in history the Ottawas. 

Soon the voyagers came in sight of some rude clearings 
in the woods. The underbrush had been cut away, the 
smaller trees had been felled, and the larger trunks had 
been scorched by fire. Among the charred stumps and 
decaying logs were patches of cultivated ground where 
young corn was growing and pumpkin vines were begin- 
ning to trail over the blackened earth. Ina grove close 
by were the huts of the Indian farmers —rude structures of 
poles covered with pieces of bark and the boughs of trees. 

Some naked children playing in the fields were the first 
to see the two canoes coming up the stream. In great 
alarm they ran to their mothers, and soon the entire little 
settlement was aroused. The men, making signs of friend- 


OLD NORTHWEST — 4 


& 
50 An Imaginary Discoverer 


ship, and covering their mouths with their hands in token 
of astonishment, hurried out to meet the strangers. The 
old chief, with the peace pipe in his hands, stood at the 
water's brink and welcomed his visitors while he quieted 
the fears of his little flock. 

“These men,’ he said; ‘must ‘have: come {6-us- onthe 
clouds; for how else could they have found us here in the 
thick woods ?”’ 

He begged the strangers to stay with him a few days; 
and, when they would not, he gave them a great dinner of 
broiled fish and sent some of his young men to guide them 
to the larger settlements of the tribe. 

Deep hidden in the woods, at some distance from the 
river, stood the home of Tessouat, a chief of the Ottawas. 
Here were his clearings and his cornfields and the huts of 
his people. Here, shut in by dense underwoods and taller 
growths of oak and elm and pine, the old chief lived in a 
world that was all hisown. But he was not wholly ignorant 
of the greater world outside. Three times he had floated’ 
his canoe down the river, carrying skins and furs to 
barter with the white men; and three times he had 
returned to his wives and people, bearing in his hands the 
profits of his trading, precious hatchets and knives and 
beautiful bits of colored glass. In the solitude of his 
forest home his delight was to tell strange stories of what 
he had seen, and especially of the big white-winged canoes 
that came floating like giant waterfowls up the broad 
St. Lawrence. Great was his surprise one morning when 
he saw Champlain and three other white men approaching 
his clearing by way of the wood path from the river. 


& 
The Tabagie at Chicf Tessouat’s 51 


“Am I really awake?” he cried, rubbing his eyes. 
“Do I see the great white chief, or am I only dreaming ? 
Yes, truly, here is our young friend Nicholas, also! He 
comes again to be the guest of his redskinned brother.” 

Then he hurried forward to salute the Frenchmen and 
welcome them to his home. He bade his wives sweep his 
best cabin and make it ready for the guests; he ordered 
a solemn feast, or zabagze, to be prepared on the morrow; 
and he sent swift runners to the neighboring clearings to 
invite his brother chiefs to come and help show honor 
to the strangers. The women and children, and such of 
the young men as were at home, came to look at them, 
and stood in awed groups about the cabins, wondering 
what would happen next. “Our friend Nicholas has 
come again,’ they whispered. But the young French- 
man seemed not to relish their greetings. 


pee bet oo ete CHIR Ge TRE SSOUAIS 


The next day the tabagie was held. On the floor in 
Tessouat’s best cabin, skins were spread for Champlain 
and his men to sit upon. Then the guests came, one 
by one, through the low door, each carrying his own 
wooden platter. “Welcome, white men!” was their 
brief salute. They sat down on the bare ground; and 
Tessouat, walking between the rows of squatting chiefs, 
dealt out to each his due portion, first of boiled hominy 
and fish, afterwards of broiled meats. 

Of the latter the Frenchmen tasted warily, for whee 
the flesh was that of dogs, or of wild animals, or of human 


An Imaginary Discoverer 


ut 
ie) 


beings, they did not know. But the Indians ate greedily, 
and soon everything was devoured. Then the women 
brought in fire to light the pipes; the cabin door was 
closed; and for many minutes the chiefs sat in silent 
thought, smoking very busily, but saying not a word. 
At last, when the pipes were emptied and the room was 


‘‘The next day the tabagie was held”’ 


dark with smoke, Champlain broke the silence. He made 
a little speech in which he told the Indians that he loved 
them more than he could tell, and that he had traveled 
unknown miles for no other reason than to see them. He 
said that he was so charmed with their country that he 
would like to pass through the whole length of it, even to 


The Tabagie at Chief Tessouats 53 


their northern neighbors, the Nipissings, and to the mighty 
water which was said to lie beyond. Would they not 
kindly lend him four good canoes and let some of their 
young men go with him as guides ? 

For a time the chiefs made no reply; but they relighted 
their pipes and smoked very hard, while they spoke in low 
tones to one another. 

“Who has told him about the Nipissings and the great 
water ?’’ some asked. 

“The Nipissings are no friends of ours,” murmured 
others. | | 

At last Tessouat stood up and spoke. He told Cham- 
plain that they all loved him, and for that reason they were 
unwilling for him to go among the Nipissings. ‘“ They are 
a cowardly people,” he said; “ but they are very dangerous, 
because they deal in poisons and charms and witchcraft.” 

Champlain answered that he was not afraid, and that his 
mind was made up to visit the great water which he knew 
lay beyond the country of the Nipissings. 

“ But the river above us is full of waterfalls and rapids,”’ 
said Tessouat, ‘‘and the place that you name is far distant. 
If you escape the whirlpools and the rocks, how can you 
carry your canoes for miles through the forest? I tell you 
that no one, save the Hurons who ge on its shores, has 
ever been able to reach the great water.’ 

Then Champlain took Nicholas Vignau by the hand and 
made him stand up before the council. ‘‘ Here is a man,” 
he said, ‘who has been through the country of the Nipis- 
sings, and he has sailed on the great water beyond it even 
to the western sea. He did not find the way so hard.” 


54 An Imaginary Discoverer 


“What! what!” cried Tessouat. ‘Does Nicholas say 
that? Nicholas, do you say you have been there?” 

Young Vignau glanced around him, and for some moments 
was dumb. Then he murmured, “ Yes, I have been there.”’ 

At once a great outcry arose among the chiefs: ‘“ What 
does he say? What does he say?” And they looked as if 
they would tear him in pieces. But Tessouat made answer. 

“Nicholas,” he said, “why do you tell this lie? You 
know very well that you slept here in my cabin every night 
that you were among us, and that you were never nearer 
the Nipissings than you arenow. It was in my canoe that 
you came up the Ottawa after the great meeting at the 
rapids ; and it was in my canoe that you went back to 
the St. Lawrence in the spring. Tell us when and how 
you went to the country of the Nipissings.”’ 

Nicholas could not say a word. He could not look the 
old chief in the face. Champlain was greatly annoyed. 
He led the young man aside, and said: “ Nicholas, tell me 
if you have been deceiving me. Your own actions speak 
against you. If you really went on to the great sea, speak 
up and tell the chiefs all about it.” 

“JT will, I will!” cried Nicholas; and then he stood 
before the council and repeated the story he had told so 
often in Paris. 

When he had finished, the Indians broke forth in a 
storm. ‘Who went with you?” they cried. “Which 
way did you go? You know that your story is false.” 

In the midst of the uproar, the young man stood trem- 
bling, unable to say a word. Champlain took hold of his 
arm. ‘ Nicholas,” he said, ‘you must explain all this. If 


The Tabagie at Chief Tessouat’s 55 


you have deceived me, say so, and I will forgive you. But 
if you say nothing, and I find your story to be false, I will 
have you hanged.” 

The poor fellow could hold out no longer; he fell upon 
his knees and confessed that he had never been nearer the 
great water than at that moment, and that all his wonder- 
ful tales were untrue. Champlain was so angry that he 
ordered the culprit from his sight, and forbade him ever to 
come into his presence again. 

“Why did you believe this worthless fellow?” cried the 
Indians. ‘Why did you not listen to chiefs and warriors ?”’ 
And then the solemn council broke up. 

Champlain scarcely knew what step to take next. He 
was now at the farthest western point that any white per- 
son except the boy Brulé had ever reached in that part of 
the continent. Of the existence of a vast sea somewhere 
beyond the great forest, there could be no doubt. But 
how far was it to its shores? Chief Tessouat told him 
that he had not yet made half the journey. If this were 
true, his toil had scarcely begun, and without more men 
and canoes it would not be wise to venture into the 
unknown wilds before him. 

And so the enterprise was given up. Ina few days the 
Frenchmen and their guides bade good-bye to Tessouat’s 
people and began their return voyage to the St. Lawrence. 
Forty Indian canoes went with them, loaded with furs 
to be bartered to the traders who were expected to meet 
them at the Island of Montreal. It was easier to float 
down the stream than to paddle against it; and so the 
journey was quickly and pleasantly performed. 


THE SEER SOF SPUR teem, Loses 


-“ 


I. A BROTHER OF THE RECOLLETS 


WO years passed before Champlain made another 
effort to discover the secret of the wilderness. Dur- | 
ing a part of that time he was at Quebec, strengthening 
the little settlement he had planted there, doing 
what he could for the fur traders, who grew more 
numerous -each succeeding summer, and making friends 
with the Indians west and north. But much of the time 
he spent in France, trying to persuade the king and his 
nobles of the importance of occupying the St. Lawrence 
Valley and of making further explorations into the un- 
known West. He still believed that the St. Lawrence was 
part of a great water way across the continent, and he was 
convinced that this water way, when once known to the 
world, would be the source of vast wealth to the country 
which controlled it. 

Inthe spring of ©1615° there’ «came? to Canadasfour 
brothers of the Reécollet Order of Franciscan monks. 
They had been invited to this field by Champlain; for the 
heart of that brave man had been filled with pity for the 
wretched savages, “living,” as he said, “like brute beasts 
without religion and without God,” and he had resolved 
to do what he could to promote their conversion to the 
Christian faith. The four friars were full of zeal, and 


56 


A Lrother of the Récollets 57 


ready to bear all hardships and brave all dangers, in order 
to carry the cross to the benighted heathen. They had 
scarcely set foot upon the soil of the New World when 
each started forth to his allotted field of labor. 

The vast region of the West had been assigned to Joseph 
le Caron, the youngest and most enthusiastic of the four. 
It was now the season when the Hurons and the Ottawas 
with their loads of furs were hastening down the river to- 
meet the traders on their yearly visit to the Island of Mon- 
treal. The good brother was impatient to begin his work, 
and could scarcely wait for the slow-moving trading vessel 
to bear him to the place of meeting. At last, one morning 
in May, the shores of the island appeared on the right, 
and Le Caron saw the river before him alive with the 
fur-laden canoes of the savages. As the ship approached 
the landing place he beheld crowds of wild, ignorant, and 
naked men, moving among the trees, and his heart went 
out to them in love. 

“These are the men to whom the rest of my life shall 
be given!” he cried; and he hastened to go ashore. 

He was dressed in the long gray robe of his Order, girt 
round the waist by a knotted cord. The peaked hood that 
was sometimes drawn over his head had fallen back upon 
his shoulders, leaving his shaved crown bare. His feet 
were protected only by sandals strapped about his ankles. 
He carried no weapon, displayed no symbol of authority. 
His whole appearance was so different from that of other 
men that the Indians were filled with awe at sight of him. 
They wondered whether he was not some higher type of 
being hitherto unknown to them; and when they learned 


58 . Lhe First of the Great Lakes 


that he had come, not to buy their furs, but to live with 
them and do them good, they were astonished beyond 
measure. 

Le Caron began his work at once. He went about 
arouse the red men, and by word and action showed them 
that he was truly their friend. He sat 


before their camp fires, and smoked with 
ta=- “them the pipe -ofepeace.y Gile 
slept in their wigwams. He ate 
the same simple food as they. He 
learned to paddle their canoes and to 
catch fish from the rapids with a skill 
equal to their own. When soon the 
Hurons had bartered away all 
_ \ their furs and were ready 
“S\ to return to their homes, 
one of their chiefs invited him 
to go with them. 
“‘Gladly will I do so,” he an- 
swered, “for I am your brother. I will spend the winter 


‘““His heart went out to them ”’ 


in your villages.” 

Champlain and the traders tried to dissuade him. They 
told him of the hardships that he must endure among the 
savages, of the extreme cold of the Canadian winter, of 
the wretched hovels, of the poor food, of the thousand 
perils he would have to face. 

“Why need I fear such things?” he asked, “I who 
have given my life to poverty and whose chief thought 
is to serve God and do good to men.” 

And so when the Hurons began their homeward voyage 


The Wilderness Way 59 


up the forest-bordered Ottawa, Le Caron obtained leave 
to go with them. By order of Champlain twelve soldiers 
accompanied him, not as a bodyguard, but to be in readi- 
ness for an important expedition soon to be undertaken 
from the Huron country. Only four or five of these’ 
soldiers knew how to handle firearms; but their valor in 
war was unquestioned. Not even the friar was to have 
a free passage, for every man was expected to wield a 
paddle and help with the canoes. 


Teer ew IiLDERNESS AWAY 


It was midsummer, and Nature in the northern wilder- 
ness was at her best. In the woods, on both sides of the 
river, thousands of singing birds filled the air with melody ; 
the open glades were bespangled with wild flowers; and 
over river and forest there was the calm beauty of perfect 
days. But the Indians cared little for these things. Very 
few of them had ears for melody, eyes for beauty, or hearts 
for the appreciation of Nature’s bounties. The sights and 
sounds which gave the good friar unmeasured delight made 
no impression upon their savage minds. 

A hundred times, where the water was shallow and 
swift, Le Caron and his companions were obliged to 
wade through the mud and over sharp stones, pushing 
their canoes before them. Often everything had to be 
carried around waterfalls or dangerous rapids, up steep 
ascents, and through pathless underwoods. Often at the 
close of the day there was nothing to eat save a little 
pounded corn mixed with water and warmed over the 


60 The First of the Great Lakes 


coals of the camp fire. Every day there was weariness 
and hunger. 
“Tt would be hard to tell you how tired I was,’ 


’ 


wrote 
the friar to a friend in France; and yet the thought of the 


‘* Where the water was shallow and swift’’ 


great work which he had undertaken made him happy 
and contented. 

Day after day the toiling savages kept on their way. 
They paddled through the broad expanse of Lake Cou- 
longe, and saw the lonely clearings of the Algonquins on 
its banks. They passed the island of the Allumettes, the 
home of Chief Tessouat, until now the farthest point in 
the wilderness which any white man had reached. They 
pushed steadily onward toward the sources of the Ottawa, 


The Mer Douce of the Hurons 61 


their passage growing more and more difficult with each 
day’s advance. 

At length, leaving the main stream, they entered the 
Mattawa, a small tributary which flows into the Ottawa 
from the west. From morning till night, and far into the 
next day, they paddled onward, the banks ever drawing 
closer together, the water ever growing shallower, until 
the canoes would float no farther. Then the Indians _ 
loaded everything upon their shoulders. Le Caron car- 
ried his own canoe; the soldiers bore their share of the 
burdens. Following a narrow path through thickets and 
over marshy places, they soon reached a placid lake with 
a bold, wooded shore, trending east and west. 


Pieri, MER SDOUCE On  Tik= HURONS 


They were now in the country of the Nipissings, the 
nation of reputed sorcerers and spellworkers; and here 
no pause was made, for, of all the Algonquin tribes, the 
Nipissings, though friendly, were least trusted. The 
Hurons launched their canoes upon the lake—to this 
day known by the name of the treacherous tribe — and 
followed its nearest shore to its outlet on the west. This 
outlet, known since that time as the French River, they 
entered without hesitation and, lest the Nipissings should 
cast a spell upon them, without looking back. Their 
course was now downstream, but the current was not 
swift, and the canoes moved slowly. 

The Indians had eaten up all their pounded corn, and 
were obliged to stop often to search for food. Here and 


62 The First of the Great Lakes 


there they found blueberries ripening on sunny hillsides. 
Now and then some skillful hunter with his bow and 
arrow contrived to bring down a small bird or chattering 
squirrel. With these and some succulent roots the party 
fought their hunger, Le Caron sharing and suffering with 
the rest. 

And now the canoes glide for miles between picturesque 
shores with stretches of barren land on either side where 
only the hardiest shrubs find nourishment. The July sun 
pours its beams upon the head of the toilworn friar, and 
he falls back, overcome, into the arms of his companion. 
But suddenly he is aroused by cries from the other canoes. 
He raises his head and looks. They are approaching the 
great water. Before them the vast sea stretches away 
and away until it meets the blue sky in the far distance. 
To the right and the left its shores extend northwestward 
and southward farther than the eye can reach. Le Caron 
staggers to his feet. His joy makes him forget for the 
moment that he is only a poor friar whose sole ambition 
is to carry the knowledge of the cross into the wilderness. 
He can scarcely wait for his canoe to reach the mouth of 
the stream and shoot out into the rippling waters beyond. 
He dips his hand into the waves and raises it to his lips. 
The water is sweet to the taste; there is not the slightest 
trace of the saltish bitterness that belongs to the ocean. 

“ Its thes Mer Doucels 7 ceca ital. ea lomice tie 
great Fresh-water Sea of which we have heard so much!” 
He lands at once, and, planting a cross in the sand, gives 
thanks that he has been brought safe to this remote spot 
in the heart of the wilderness. 


The Mer Douce of the Hurons 63 


But now he remembers himself and his mission, and the 
glory of his discovery is forgotten. He has come to the 
New World, not to explore new regions, but to save souis. 
To him the baptism of a single savage is of far greater 
importance than the discovery of many seas. Hencefor- 
ward nothing shall for a moment cause his mind to waver 
from the great purpose to which he has dedicated his life. 

It was thus that, in July, 1615, the humble Reécollet 
brother, Joseph le Caron, discovered the first known of the 
five Great Lakes. By the French it was long known as 
the Mer Douce, or Fresh-water Sea, of the Hurons. Later 
it received the name of Lake Iroquois; but this designa- 
tion soon gave place to its present title, Lake Huron, thus 
preserving the memory of the frowzy-haired savages whose 
homes were near its shores. 


THE SECOND (OFS CEG hia ee ee 
[> THE “TREATY Witla opuRoNS 


HE discovery of Lake Ontario followed quickly upon 
that of Lake Huron, but it happened in a way that 

you would never have supposed. Looking at a map of 
the lakes, you would 
say that its discov- 
ery was most likely 


made by ascending 
the St. Lawrence directly 
~ from the Island of Mon- 
treal. This certainly would 
seem the easiest and most natural 


way. But it must be remembered 
that Champlain had no map, except a very imperfect one 
of his own making, and that, aside from the vague descrip- 
tions given him by the Indians, he was entirely ignorant 
of the course of the river. He had been told that it was 
obstructed by rapids and by waterfalls of immeasurable 
height. Moreover, the region through which it flowed 
was infested by the dreaded Iroquois, whose war parties 
patroled the forests and were supposed to guard every 
pass. Plainly, therefore, the only safe route westward 
from the Island of Montreal was by way of the Ottawa 
River, through regions inhabited by Indians not unfriendly 
to the French. 

64 


The Treaty with the Hurons 65 


Let us go back now to that time in May when the 
Indians and fur traders had their spring meeting in the 
shadow of Mont Royal, and when Father le Caron made 
his first acquaintance with savage life. Champlain was 
at that meeting, doing all that he could to pro- rence 
mote friendship among the Indians, and to unite 
the tribes of the St. Lawrence in a league for self-defense 
and the advancement of French interests. The Hurons 
came to him with the old story of wrongs suffered from 
the Iroquois; and they begged that he would help them 
strike one more blow at their hated enemies. They would 
raise a great war party, they said; they would invade the 
country of the Iroquois, and destroy their villages and 
farms ; they would drive them far back from the St. Law- 
rence —all this they would do, if only the white chief with 
a few of his warriors would go home with them and put 
himself at the head of their young braves and go on the 
warpath with them. 

Champlain did not need much persuasion. He had 
already made the Iroquois his enemies. Knowing but 
little of their strength, he believed that it would be easier 
to crush them than by any means to win their friendship. 
By fighting them he would secure the allegiance and aid 
of all the tribes north of the St. Lawrence. 

An agreement with the Huron chiefs was therefore 
soon made. Champlain was to hurry back to Quebec to 
make the needful preparations. The Hurons were to go 
directly home, call their warriors together, and await his 
coming. Then all were to join in a grand raid into the 
land of the Iroquois. 


OLD NORTHWEST — 5 


66 The Second of the Great Lakes 


Within two weeks from the time that Father le Caron 
had started on his wearisome voyage up the Ottawa, 
Champlain had returned from Quebec and was following 
on his track. With him were ten Indians and two French- 
men, one of whom was young Etienne Brulé, soon to 
become known as the bravest among the scouts of the 
wilderness. These, with the twelve soldiers who had gone 
on before, were to be the French contingent of the war. 

The company embarked on the Ottawa in two canoes, and 
pushed forward with the hope of overtaking the Hurons 
and the missionary. They passed the place where now 
stands the capital city of Canada. They carried their 
canoes around the cataract of Chaudiére, where the awed 
Indians paused to throw gifts of tobacco into the whirling 
stream to appease the manitou of the waters. They pad- 
dled through Lake Coulonge, already familiar to Cham- 
plain. They skirted the island home of Chief Tessouat, 
but did not tarry to renew old friendships. They toiled 
against the rapids in the upper course of the river, then 
turned into the Mattawa, and crossed the short portage to 
Lake Nipissing. Here they were entertained for two days 
by a friendly band of Nipissings, who welcomed the white 
men to their cabins and gave them a feast of fish and of 
choice game from the woods. Then they embarked again, 
and, floating down the French River, finally reached the 
Mer Douce, the great lake of the Hurons, only ten days 
after its discovery by Father le Caron. 

What may have been the feelings of Champlain as he 
at last stood upon the shore of this “great water’’ it is 
impossible for us to know. True, it was not the western 


Ototiacha 67 


ocean, the object of his desires, for the water here was 
fresh; but he had reasons to believe that that greater 
water was only a short distance farther west. He doubt- 
less had dreams of the wonderful lands which he supposed 
to lie beyond the western horizon. There, he imagined, 
were China and India and the golden East; but his 
wildest fancy failed to picture the great hives of human 
industry, the wealth and power, which now exist in that 
then unknown region of the Old Northwest. 

The home of Champlain’s Huron allies was still far 
away, toward the southern point of that arm of Lake 
Huron which we call the Georgian Bay. The canoes 
were therefore soon launched on the great water, and the 
voyage was resumed. Day after day the adventurers held 
on their course, keeping the land close on their left. They 
skirted many a wooded island, and glided through many 
a rocky channel where the only sound to be heard was 
the lapping of the waves against the shore, or the scream- 
ing of some fishhawk circling in the clear air above them. 
Food became scarce, for the savages had eaten so heartily 
at the beginning of the expedition that the supply was 
exhausted. But some squashes and wild berries were 
found on the shore, and with these the voyagers were 
obliged to satisfy their hunger. 


II. OTOUACHA 


At length, early in the month of August, Champlain 
and his companions reached the end of their voyage — 
a voyage on rivers and lakes of nearly a thousand miles. 


68 The Second of the Great Lakes 


The canoes were hauled ashore and lifted upon the shoul- 
ders of the brawny Indians. Then the whole party struck 
inland. Following a narrow path through the tall grass 
ver of the meadows and among the thickets which 

skirted the great forest, they came in time to a 
large clearing upon the slope of a sunny hill. There, 
surrounded by fields of corn and patches of gay sunflowers, 
stood the village of Otoiiacha, one of the twenty or more 
settlements of the Hurons. 

In the village were perhaps thirty houses, all built in 
the fashion peculiar to the Hurons and Iroquois. They 
were much like the buildings which Jacques Cartier had 
found at Hochelaga, eighty years before. Each house 
was thirty or thirty-five feet in width, while several were 
of great length, one of them measuring one hundred and 
eighty feet from end to end. The framework was of stout 
saplings bent over at the top, so as to form an arching 
roof, and the whole was covered with layers of bark. At 
the middle of the roof, extending the whole length of the 
house, there was an open space several inches wide which 
served at once for window and chimney. The fires were 
built on the ground directly under this opening, and each 
fire served for two families. Ranged along the two sides 
of the great room were scaffolds supported by poles and 
covered with bark and skins. In the summer time these 
were used as sleeping places; but in the winter the fami- 
lies slept on the ground, closely huddled together around 
the fire. Suspended from the arched roof were bunches 
of dried herbs, ears of unshelled corn, the skins of various 
animals, and numerous ornaments and articles of dress. 


Ototiacha 69 


In a single house there were often as many as twenty 
families. 

The people of Ototiacha received Champlain with many 
expressions of joy. A great feast was made in his honor, 
and vast quantities of pumpkins and corn and fish, with 


Interior of a Huron house 


roasted dog and other savory meats, were consumed. Run- 
ners were sent to the other villages, and warriors began 
to assemble, eager for the great raid into the land of the 
Iroquois. 

On the next day, Champlain began a tour through the 
other settlements of the Hurons; and hearty was the wel- 
come with which he was everywhere greeted. One of their 


70 The Second of the Great Lakes 


largest villages was Carhagouha, surrounded by high pali- 
sades — three rows of tree trunks 


and guarded by dusky 
warriors. Here, whom should he meet but the humble 
friar, Joseph le Caron, who, with his twelve’ soldier com- 
panions, had arrived there several days before. ‘‘ Good 
father,” said Champlain, ‘‘the chase has been a long one, 
but I have overtaken you at last.”’ 


AY. eo 


‘The strong men knelt in adoration”’ 


The Hurons, who had been strangely won by the gentle- 
ness and unselfishness of the friar, had built for him a little 
Oe: chapel of bark in the edge of the woods. And 

there, on the twelfth of August, clad in priestly 
robes, he stood before a rude altar which he had made 
with his own hands and performed the ceremony of holy 


mass. Champlain and Etienne Brulé and the other 


The Discovery of Lake Ontario 71 


Frenchmen who had ventured into that wilderness land 
were ranged behind him. The priest raised aloft the 
emblems of the Catholic faith; the strong men knelt in 
reverent adoration; and then the voices of all joined in 
singing a hymn of praise to God. Thus, in the quiet of 
the ancient forest, just outside of the chief village of the 
Hurons, was performed the first public religious service 
in the country of the Great Lakes. 


Hie DISCOVERY OF LAKE ONTARIO 


Meanwhile, the Huron warriors were getting ready for 
the warpath, and there was much feasting and rejoicing 
because of the victories that were hoped for, although 
they had yet to be won. From Carhagouha, Cham- 
plain and his men journeyed southward, where were sev- 
eral villages close together, and where the beauty and 
richness of the country were unexcelled. The French- 
men were impatient to advance, but the Indians had so 
forgotten themselves in their various festivities that they 
were no longer anxious to go upon the warpath. It was 
pleasanter to feast and dream of conquest than to endure 
the hardships and dangers of a real campaign. After 
many delays, however, everything was finally ready, and 
the horde of dusky warriors, twenty-five hundred strong, 
set their faces toward the enemy’s country, their hearts 
full of savage courage and hope. 

Far to the south, three days’ journey beyond the country 
of the Iroquois, there lived a nation that had always been 
friendly to the Hurons. The people of this nation were 


eS, 


72 The Second of the Great Lakes 


called Andastes. They dwelt in three villages near the 
headwaters of a great river and could muster fully a 
thousand warriors. They had more than once, in former 
days, aided the Hurons in warfare against their common 
foes, and they had promised to aid them again. If only 
they could be told about the great war party that was now 
on its way, they would no doubt send their young men at | 
once to attack the Iroquois from the south and thus make 
the defeat doubly sure. 

_ And so a council was held, and twelve warriors were 
chosen to go with all haste, by the safest and most secret 
route, to the country of the Andastes and secure their aid. 
Champlain thought that for several reasons it would be 
wise to send one of his white men with this embassy. He 
had no trouble in making a choice; for who was so well 
fitted for this dangerous service as young Etienne Brulé? 

Look now at the map, and trace the course of the great 
war party of Hurons. On Lake Simcoe, which bounded 
their country on the south, a fleet of canoes awaited them. 

Embarking in these, they paddled eastward along its 
northern shore for twenty miles or more. Then after 
carrying their canoes through the woods for a long dis- 
tance, they reached the chain of smaller lakes and streams 
that form the headwaters of the river Trent. They made 
many stops on the way, now feasting in some friendly 
aa village, now fishing in the clear, cold streams, now 

hunting deer and small game in the dense woods. 
At length, late in September, the canoes glided suddenly 
out from the mouth of the Trent, and the eyes of Cham- 
plain were gladdened by the sight of the watery ex- 


The Ratd upon the Troquots 73 


panse of which he had already heard much from his 
Indian friends — Lake Ontario, the second of the Great 
Lakes to be beheld by white men. But Etienne Brule, 
hastening by the nearest route to the country of the 
Andastes, had doubtless seen this lake and paddled his 
canoe upon it several days before; and it is to him rather 
than to Champlain that the honor of its discovery belongs. 


IVa BALD OPON THES TROOUOIS 


The course of the invading warriors was now across 
the narrow northeastern portion of the lake, where many 
small islands lay in their way, making their passage easier 
and safer. In a short time they landed on the opposite 
side, in what is now the state of New York. They hid 
their canoes in the thickets by the shore, and then, like 
the skulking mob of marauders which they were, they stole 
cautiously through the woods southward into the heart of 
the Iroquois country. 

We need not follow them. It is enough to know that 
their invasion did not end in success. Without waiting 
for the expected aid from the friendly Andastes, Hurons 
and Frenchmen made a hasty attack upon a well-fenced 
town of the Onondagas. But they met with such sturdy 
resistance that they were glad to withdraw. The Iro- 
quois were better fighters than they, and were not to be 
thrown into a panic by the firing of a few arquebuses. 
Champlain himself was wounded, and was carried away 
ina basket. The great war party was broken up into 
small bands, and each band made its way back, as best it 


74 The Second of the Great Lakes 


could, to the homes of the nation by the shore of the Mer 
Douce. 

Champlain, after many thrilling adventures, succeeded 
in recrossing Lake Ontario, and soon after the beginning 
of winter was safely housed in one of the villages of the 
Hurons. And there, suffering from his wounds and con- 
fined by the storms of 
a most rigorous season, 
he was obliged to re- 
main until the following 
spring. 

In the meanwhile, 
Father le Caron had 
found plenty to do in 


2 


P AK & pe 
Wi a ve Ms a3 - 
MG | My 4 the village of Carha- 
, a / 
OOF 
My Ve 


‘ 


A) “A S A 


‘: 
WAS 'S, 


gouha. He made him- 
self at home with the 
poor people there, and 


interested himself in 


T Otte ue bs 
: their welfare. He sat 


‘** What good news have you now?’”’ 


in their councils, and 
smoked with the old men who were too feeble to follow 
the warpath. He was always ready to offer a helping 
hand to those who were in need, and to give a word of 
kindly sympathy to those who were in distress. The 
children loved him, and the whole village held him in 
respect. But, while they regarded his religion as some- 
thing to be thought of with awe and a species of rever- 
ence, they could not understand it, and not one convert 
did the good friar make, 


The Raid upon the Troquots 75 


In the spring, for some reason that has not been ex- 
plained, he decided to return to Quebec. He did not know 
that Champlain had spent the winter in another village 
not forty miles away; for deep drifts of snow lay between 
Carhagouha and the rest of the world, and for months no 
news was brought in from the other settlements. With 
the first breaking up of the ice the friar was ready to start 
on the long voyage, by way of Lake Nipissing and the 
Ottawa, back to the settlement on the St. Lawrence. Had 
he waited ten days longer he might have had the company 
of Champlain. It so happened, however, that the two 
men did not see cach other again until they met a month 
later at the little fort of Quebec. We can imagine that 
meeting and the heartiness with which the sturdy captain 
greeted the meek and devoted friar. 

“What good news have you now, Father le Caron?” 

“Good news? Why, the same story of hardships and 
discouragements in a good cause. But shall we not per- 
Severe: 

“Indeed we shall, and we shall succeed, too.” 

But henceforth Le Caron’s work was to be in other fields, 
and we shall hear of him no more. 


HTS WUDLIRD SR eis Ba 
I. THE YOUNG MAN FROM NORMANDY 


T about the time that the Recollet friar, Joseph le 
Caron, was returning from his winter’s sojourn among 
the Hurons, there came to Canada a young man from 
Normandy whose name was Jean Nicolet. From 
boyhood he had been a restless fellow, fond of 
adventure, and eager for new and dangerous enterprises. 
His father had wished him to become a priest, and his 
mother had taken pains to have him instructed in all the 
common observances of religion. But he could not en- 
dure restraint, and the free life of the woods with all its 
perils seemed to him much pleasanter than the quiet hum- 
drum of a village or the noisy bustle of a city. 

He had heard much about the vast new country of Can- 
ada, about its trackless forests and its rivers whose sources 
no man had yet discovered. He had listened to strange 
tales about the savage men and the wild beasts which lived 
and roamed in that unexplored region; and vague stories 
had come to his ears of mighty seas hidden in the wilder- 
ness, and of a direct passage through them to the golden 
shores of China. A mind like his was easily stirred by 
reports of this kind; and, before the beard had begun 
to grow on his chin, he had left his humble home and 

76 


1616 


The Young Man from Normandy a 


embarked on a ship that was setting sail for this fairyland 
of adventure. 

When he arrived at the little station of Quebec he was 
without money and without friends. But of what use was 
money in the wild woods where there was nothing to buy? 
And as for friends, would not his quick wit and his kind 
heart win for him as many as heneeded? Champlain, who 
could read a man’s character well, saw that Nicolet was 
brave and shrewd, and that he was well suited for the 
daring work of a scout and trader among the Indians. 
He therefore advised him to go and live among the Algon- 
quins on the Ottawa, to learn their language and manners, 
and to inure himself to all the hardships of life in the 
wilderness. 

A trading vessel was about to sail for the Island of 
Montreal, and Jean Nicolet embarked as a passenger. 
There were other adventurers on board, for it was at the 
time of the spring meeting of traders and Indians at the 
mouth of the Ottawa. The “beaver fair,’ as it came to 
be called, was then rather a new thing; for the Indians 
had only recently learned to carry their furs there to be 
bartered to the French traders. It was soon to become 
the great event of the year and the chief market for furs 
in Canada. 

There were some Ottawa Indians on the vessel— 
going home after a visit to the great white chief; and 
with these Jean Nicolet hastened to become acquainted. 
He took careful notice of everything that was said, and 
soon learned many of their words and was able to talk 
‘with them. They were much pleased with all this; and 


78 ' The Third of the Great Lakes 


when he told them that he was going to live like them in 
the wild woods, they said that he was very brave and would 
be a great man. 

When the ship arrived off the Island of Montreal, the 
traders showed young Nicolet the place which Champlain 
had chosen for a fort. “If a strong blockhouse were 


‘*On the lookout for bargains’’ 


built here,” they said, ‘it would guard the only gateway 
to the west, and make this point the chief center of the 
fur trade and the most important place in Canada.” 

At this very place, lining the shore of the island, there 
are now long lines of wharves and _ storehouses, and 
narrow streets where the hum of traffic is daily heard. 
But when Jean Nicolet landed there he saw only some 


The Young Man from Normandy 79 


smouldering fires on the bank and a few straggling Indian 
huts among the trees. A little farther on, there was a 
much busier scene. The river seemed alive with Indian 
canoes and the boats of the traders. On the shore were 
tents and booths and blazing camp fires; and among these 
moved Frenchmen, armed and gayly uniformed, and tall, 
lithe savages in the scanty garb of the woods. 

Both red men and white were on the lookout for bar- 
gains. The former were neither so wise nor so wary as 
they afterward became, and were willing to barter the 
finest of their furs for a long knife, a sharp-edged hatchet, 
or an iron kettle. The latter, knowing the value of each 
class of goods, were intent upon getting as much as pos- 
sible for as little as possible, and in this they succeeded 
well. 

Jean Nicolet’s first care was to become acquainted with 
the Indians. He was impatient to leave all signs of 
civilized life behind him, to plunge into the depths of the 
forest, to spend his days in hunting and trapping and 
wild adventure. He mingled with the red men and 
studied their manners; he threw aside his French cloth-. 
ing and dressed himself in skins and the toggery of 
a savage; and before many days had passed he had 
gained the admiration and confidence of more than one 
Algonquin brave. At last, when all the furs had been 
bartered away and the traders were getting ready to 
return to Quebec, Nicolet had disappeared.. He had 
joined himself to a party of Indian hunters, and was 
pushing his way through brakes and swamps and wild 
woods toward the headwaters of the Ottawa. 


j 


80 The Third of the Great Lakes 


When next we hear of him he is with Chief Tessouat’s 
people on the island of the Allumettes. Then he is with 
the Nipissings, then with the Hurons, and then again 
with the Ottawas. The free life of the forest was exactly 
suited to his restless nature, and he endured its hardships 
without any thought of complaint. Wandering freely 
wherever his fancy led him, he explored all that region 
which lies between the sources of the Ottawa and the 
great lake of the Hurons. He learned all the woodcraft 
of the Indians, and he knew their languages as well as 
his mother tongue. Living this wild life for years, his 
thoughts and habits became more and more like the 
thoughts and habits of his dusky friends. But the lessons 
of religion which his mother had taught him in his child- 
hood remained deeply implanted in his heart, and these 
‘served constantly to remind him of home and civilization. 


Il; THE -SCOUTSFOF. THES Wii PRIN ICS> 


There is no doubt that Jean Nicolet, when visiting the 
Huron settlements, often met Etienne Brulé, whose life 
had been even fuller of wild adventure than his own. 
Brulé, as we have already learned, had been with Cham- 
plain in the last disastrous raid of the Hurons into the 
land of the Iroquois. He had been sent on a mission to 
the Andastes Indians, enemies of the Iroquois, who lived 
at some distance farther south. He had wintered with 
these savages, and in the spring had floated down the 
Susquehanna River to its mouth—being the first white 
man to set foot in what is now Pennsylvania. Returning 


The Scouts of the Wilderness 81 


northward, he had been captured by a band of Iroquois, 
who had burned his face with firebrands and tortured 
him in the most dreadful manner; but his fearlessness 
and contempt of pain had won the admiration 
of his captors; a sudden thunderstorm so filled 
them with superstitious terror that they set him free and 
helped him on his way to the Huron country. Since then 
Brule had lived much of the time among the tribes by 
the shores of the Mer 
Douce; he had made long 
voyages in his canoe, and 
had explored the lake 
country far to the west; 


1616 


and he had become so 
inured to savage life that 
he had no wish to return 
to civilization. 

It is interesting to im- 
agine Brulé and Nicolet 
spending many days to- 
gether, each telling the 
other of the strange things 
he had seen, of his ex- 
ploits in hunting and in 


i& arse 


‘Each telling the other of the things 


war, and of his marvelous i anya 


escapes from flood and 

fire and wild beasts and savage men. It is more than likely 
that Brulé then described a long canoe voyage which we 
know he had recently made toward the remote West. It 
was Champlain who had urged him to make this voyage. 


OLD NORTHWEST —6 . 


~ 


82 The Third of the Great Lakes 


With another white man, named Grenolle, and several 
Hurons, he had paddled nine days along the great north 
shore, coming at last to the mouth of a broad river which 
enters the Mer Douce from the northwest. He had 
ascended that river for three days, until he arrived at 
the foot of some long and dangerous rapids, which pre- 
vented his farther progress. He found there some fishing 
Indians who called themselves Otchipwes (Chippewas), 
and who spoke the Algonquin language. These savages 
had told him that only a short distance above the rapids 
one would come to the shore of a vast sea, the end of 
which no man had ever yet beheld. And they gave him 
a large lump of copper which had been found on the 
shore of that mysterious water. 

“And did you go onward and see with your own eyes 
the wonderful things which these Indians told you about?” 

“Tf I had done so, would I not now be in Quebec 
telling Champlain of my discoveries? I need not explain 
why I did not go; but at some time I hope to pilot our 
captain to the shores of the western ocean and point out 
to him the long-sought route to China.” 

“Do you really think that the great sea which the 
Otchipwes told you about is a part of that ocean?” 

“There is no doubt about it. By that vast water lies 
the way to the South Sea which the Spaniards discovered 
more than a hundred years ago. Heretofore only one 
gateway to that ocean has been known to the world, and 
that lies at the southern end of the continent and is 
controlled by Spain. Soon this other and shorter route 
will be opened, and it shall belong to France.” 


The Scouts of the Wilderness 83 


We can imagine Nicolet listening with the greatest 
attention. His knowledge of geography was very limited, 
but he had often heard of China and India, and he knew 
that for many years French and English navigators had 
been seeking in vain for a new route to the western ocean. 
He supposed that if that ocean could once be reached, it 
would be an easy matter to cross over into the strange 
lands on the other side. 

“Did the Indians tell you anything about the people 
who live beyond the western sea?” Such is another 
question which he would probably ask Brule. 

“Nothing definite. But they said they had heard of 
men who looked a little like Frenchmen, but were of a 
darker color and had neither beard nor hair. These men, 
they said, dressed in a strange fashion, smoked long- 
stemmed pipes, and were armed with stone hatchets.” 

“The Nipissings, among whom I lived eight summers, 
told me the same story.” 

What could better satisfy the restless nature of these 
two rovers than to go in quest of the mysterious regions 
in the distant West? They cared nothing for the glory 
of discovery; but the mere love of adventure was always 
tempting them into new fields of danger. Yet we are 
not told, nor is it likely, that they agreed upon any 
plan of action. When they parted, each went his own 
way. 

Soon after this, a dreadful fate overtook Etienne Brule. 
In some_way, we are not told how, he gained 

ken 1632 
the ill will_of certain young Hurons, and was 
treacherously beaten to death in one of their villages. 


84 The Third of the Great Lakes 


Not satisfied with killing their former friend, the wretched 
savages made a feast and ate his body. 

Brulé’s death was long 
remembered and lamented 
among the Indians; and, 
as they believed, * it 
was strangely avenged. 
Alarmed at the cruel 
deed which had_ been 
done among them, the 
people of the village had 
deserted their homes and 
built a new town several 
miles away. But this did 
not free them from a 


| feeling of guilt; for when, 
a soon afterward, a strange 

sickness came upon them 
baker ces and destroyed nearly half: 
of the Huron nation, they declared that this affliction had 


come upon them as a punishment for their crime. 


Ill. THE GOVERNOR’S COMMISSION 


In the following year a great beaver market was held 
at the new trading post of Three Rivers, midway between 
“ee Quebec and the Island of Montreal, and Jean 

Nicolet was there as interpreter for the Indian 
tribes. To Champlain, who was now the governor of 


New France, he no doubt related all that he had heard 


The Discovery of Lake Michigan 85 


about the far distant West. Not only did he narrate the 
story of Brulé’s adventurous voyage and tell of the lump 
of copper brought from the shore of the unknown sea, 
but he repeated many vague tales which he had gathered 
among the Nipissings and the Hurons. He spoke espe- 
cially of the wonderful people who were said to be “like 
Frenchmen, but had neither hair nor beards.” These 
people he believed to be the same as those whom the 


) 


Nipissings called “ Ouinnepegs,” which in the Algonquin 
language meant “‘men of the fetid water.’ Was it not 
possible that they and the people known to Europeans as 
Chinese were the same? 

Champlain was deeply interested in these stories, and 
he determined to send some one to explore the water ways 
of the distant West, to discover if possible the best route 
to the South Sea, and to visit the country of the half- 
mythical Ouinnepegs. 

Who was better fitted for this mission than Jean Nicolet? 
For a long time the heart of this brave woods ranger had 
been set upon learning more about the unknown regions 
toward the setting sun. Champlain saw in him one who, 
by nature and by experience, was peculiarly qualified for 
such an enterprise. It was easy to persuade him to go. 


nv. tHE DISCOVERY OF LAKE -MICHIGAN 


In the following summer, therefore, Nicolet started from 
Three Rivers on his long and dangerous voyage. teak 
With him were two Jesuit priests, Brébeuf and 


Daniel, bound for the Huron country, where the former 


86 The Third of the Great Lakes 


had already spent some time, and where they hoped soon 
to found a mission for the conversion of the savages. 
Seven Indians undertook to paddle Nicolet’s canoes and 
guide him along the intricate shores of the lake. 

They followed the route over which Father le Caron 
had passed nearly twenty years earlier, tarrying a little 
while with the Nipissings, who were friendly to Nicolet, 

and by no means so 

bad as their neighbors 
had painted them. At 
2B the mouth of French River 
the priests turned southwardly toward 
their chosen field of labor, while Nicolet and 
his canoemen struck boldly out in the opposite direction. 
They crossed the head of Georgian Bay, and skirted the 
southern shore of the Great Manitoulin Island, They 
threaded their way among green islets and through wind- 
ing channels, and at length entered the broad strait or 
river of which Etienne Brulé had spoken. The current 
was not strong, and they paddled boldly onward through 
scenes of striking beauty. For twenty leagues they 
ascended the stream, when suddenly they were checked 
by a long stretch of dangerovs rapids. They were at 
the spot since known as the Sault Sainte Marie. Many 
Indians of the Chippewa nation were there, fishing; and 
Nicolet landed on the south side of the river, and held 
a council with them. Thus, in the summer of 1634, if 
we disregard the possible visit of Brulé to the same spot, 
did the foot of white man first tread the soil of Michigan. 

The Chippewas told Nicolet that by carrying his canoes 


Lore Sins 


Sa 


The Discovery of Lake Michigan | 87 


around the great sault, or rapids, and launching them 
above, he would soon reach a boundless sea, but a sea of 
fresh water, and, therefore, certainly not the salt ocean 
which he had hoped to discover. Did the Ouinnepegs, 
the “men of the fetid sea,” live that way? Was there 
anywhere on the shores of that water a people who had 
neither hair nor beard, 
and who smoked long 
pipes and looked a little 
like Frenchmen ? 

The Chippewas were 
acquainted with a tribe 
called Ouinnepegs, or 
Winnebagoes, living on 
another lake some dis- 
tance southward. But 


whether these were the ) 
men whom Nicolet sought, ichippewas tehine 

they could not say. He 

asked them to give him guides; and, without taking the 
trouble to visit the mighty lake which was almost in sight, 
he ordered the canoes to be turned about, and forthwith 
retraced his way down the broad river. 

When they again reached the lake of the Hurons, the 
explorers turned to the right, and, following the wooded 
shore, soon arrived in sight of the bold cliffs of the 
Island of Mackinac. And now Nicolet could see the 
shore of the mainland on either side, and was told that 
here was the passageway between the Mer Douce and 
another large body of water on the west. Continuing 


88 The Third of the Great Lakes 


his course, it was not long until he entered that unknown 
sea, and, first of white men, beheld the vast expanse of 
waters since known as Lake Michigan. 

Thus, ninety-nine years after Jacques Cartier stood 
on Mont Royal and gazed with eager eyes toward the 
northwestern wilderness, the third of the Great Lakes 
was discovered. 


Ve PHE *MEN-OFP THE FELD esta 


Still keeping close to the right-hand shore, Nicolet 
and his company paddled onward toward the west. 
They stopped for a day with some Algonquin Indians 
on the shore of the Bay de Noquet, and learned from 
them that the peopie called Ouinnepegs (Winnebagoes) 
- or Men of the Fetid Water, lived south of them at a 
distance of two days’ journey. 

And did these people really dwell on the shores of a 
salt-sea or fetid lake? Noone knew) ofe such ean cea, 
Then, why had they been given the name of Ouinne- 
pegs? In former times they may have lived by some’ 
such water, but the oldest man among them did not 
remember it. 

Nicolet still had the thought of the western ocean in 
his mind, and he did not give up the idea that the 
Ouinnepegs had come from the neighborhood of its 
shores. He smoked the pipe of peace with the friendly 
Algonquins, and then started again on his voyage. His 
course was along the western shore of that arm of the 
lake which we call Green Bay, but which the French 


The Men of the Fetid Sea 89 


afterward named Baie des Puans (Bay of the Fetids), 
because ‘‘the men of the fetid water” lived near it. 

On the following day Nicolet landed again and was 
kindly received by some Indians of the tribe of Menom- 
inees—eaters of wild rice, whose home was on the 
river still known by their name. To these Nicolet made 
signs of friendship; and when they learned whither he 
was bound, they kindly offered to guide him to the chief 
town of the Ouinnepegs, now not many leagues away. 

At length the voyagers, approaching the head of the 
bay, beheld the blue smoke curling up from the village 
huts of the tribe they were seeking. They turned their 
canoes into a narrow inlet near the mouth of the Fox 
River, and leaped ashore on the spot where now stands 
the city of Green Bay. 

It was thus, while yet nearly the whole of North 
America was an unknown land, that Wisconsin was first 
entered by a white man. At that time scarcely half a 
dozen settlements had been made in our entire country. 
Not quite fifteen years had passed since the landing of 
the Pilgrims at Plymouth. A few Dutch trading posts 
had been established on the Hudson. In Virginia, a 
feeble colony, founded twenty-seven years before, was 
struggling for existence. Nowhere on the American con- 
tinent had an Englishman ventured a hundred miles from 
the Atlantic coast. Imagine, if you can, the wildness 
and the vastness and the mystery of the country which 
lay between Jean Nicolet and the nearest outpost of 
civilization. 

The voyage across the lakes had been a long one, 


gO The Third of the Great Lakes 


and Nicolet believed that he must now be near the 
western boundary of the continent. If that were true, 
he thought that the shores of China could not be far 
away —for he had no knowledge of the width of the 
Pacific Ocean. Indeed, he reasoned that these ‘men of 
the fetid water”’ were probably related in some way to the 


‘‘He went forward with great pomp and dignity ”’ 


Chinese. He lingered by the shore while he sent one 
of his guides into the village to tell the Ouinnepegs 
(Winnebagoes) that he, an ambassador of the French 
nation, had arrived in their land and would at once pay 
them a visit. Then he dressed himself in a long robe 
of scarlet damask embroidered with birds and flowers, 
and went forward with great pomp and dignity toward 


The Men of the Fetid Sea QI 


the little cluster of wigwams. In each hand he held a 
pistol, while behind him was carried the white banner of 
France. 

All the people of the village had come out to meet 
him; and when he drew near them he flourished his arms 
in the air and shot off his pistols. Hearing the deafen- 
ing noise and seeing clouds of smoke rolling over the 
white man’s head, the Winnebagoes were terribly fright- 
ened. The women and children ran back to their wig- 
wams, crying that it was a spirit armed with thunder 
and lightning who had come down from the skies to visit 
them. But the warriors, although trembling, stood their 
ground; and when Nicolet greeted them kindly in the 
name of the king of France, they laid aside their fears 
and welcomed him to their village and country. The 
chief led him to his own wigwam and gave orders that 
a grand feast should be made ready in honor of the 
strangers. 

That same afternoon Nicolet sat down with the Winne- 
bago braves to a dinner, the like of which even he had 
never tasted. A hundred and twenty beavers, roasted, 
boiled, broiled, and fricasseed — besides green corn and 
other delicacies — were devoured by the Winnebagoes and 
their visitors. The pipes were lighted, and for some time 
all sat in silence, sending whiff after whiff of fragrant 
smoke into the air, while they meditated upon the possible 
outcome of the business that was before them. 

Then Nicolet arose in his gorgeous robes and made a 
speech. He spoke in the Huron tongue, and then in the 
Algonquin, and then in all the Indian dialects of which 


92 The Third of the Great Lakes 


he was master. But it was hard to make the Winneba- 
goes understand; for they were a branch of the great 
Dakota or Sioux nation, and in speech and manners were 
very unlike the Indians of the East. With the help of 
his Chippewa guides, however, Nicolet at last made his 
meaning clear. He explained the object of his visit ; 
told the Winnebagoes about the great power and bound- 
less possessions of the French king; and said that his 
master had sent him to make a treaty of peace with them, 
and to ask them to join him against the dreaded enemy 
of all good people, the pitiless Iroquois. 

The chiefs and warriors listened and were pleased. 
They answered that they were very willing to make a 
treaty of peace with the French king, and to be friendly 
with all his friends. As for the Iroquois, they had never 
had dealings with them, but had heard of them as a blood- 
thirsty and cruel race. And they ended with many assur- 
ances of peace and good will. 


Vib SEL IS) OAT ER SOE Waa te re on 


The business of the council being thus quickly and 
pleasantly ended, the Winnebagoes would gladly have 
persuaded Nicolet to stay with them for several days; 
but the summer season was near its close, and Nicolet 
wished to make some further explorations before return- 
ing to Canada and reporting his discoveries to Cham- 
plain. He still believed that he was near the western ' 
border of the continent, and he asked his new friends ¥ 
about the great water that lies toward the setting sun. 


The “Father of Waters” 93 


z 


They told him that there was indeed a “great water’ 
not very far to the westward; and they gave him guides 
to show him the shortest way thither. Choosing the light- 
est canoes, they guided him up the Fox River, skirting 
the northwestern shore of Winnebago Lake, and then 
threading the crooked channel of the river in its upper 
course, until they reached the villages of a tribe of Indians 
speaking the Algonquintongue. They were the Mascoutins, 
or Fire Nation, and their name had been heard even among 
the Hurons as that of a tribe whose courage was unex- 
celled. . It was easy to talk with these remote kinsmen 
of the Ottawas, and so, dismissing his Winnebago guides, 
Nicolet determined to rest a few days in their wigwams. 

He asked the Mascoutins about the great water he was 
seeking. They answered that it was toward the southwest 
and might be reached in three days. By ascending the Fox 
afew miles farther he would reach a short and easy portage 
over which the canoes could be carried to another and 
larger river. That river, since known as the Wisconsin, 
would carry him directly to the mighty “father of 
waters.” 

Nicolet did not clearly understand their meaning. He 
had cherished the idea that he was approaching the 
western ocean; and when the Indians spoke of the 
“father of waters” he did not suppose that they meant a 
mere river. He was. satisfied that he was now within 
three days’ journey of the Pacific, and that a safe and sure 
route thither had been pointed out to him. But for some 
unknown reason he decided not to go farther in that direc- 
tion at present. 


94 The Third of the Great Lakes 


There is no evidence that he even attempted to cross 
the portage to the Wisconsin River. Pushing southward, 
over-land and on foot, he visited various tribes of Indians, 
and was the first of white men to set foot within the terri- 
tory now comprising the state of Illinois. Two weeks 
later, however, he was again, in company with his Huron 
canoemen, skimming over the waters of Green Bay. This 
time he followed the eastern shore, and on the peninsula 
between the bay and Lake Michigan he met and made 
friends with a band of Pottawattomies. Then venturing 
again into the broader lake, the party returned without 
further incident to the more familiar waters of Georgian 
Bay, and thence to the villages of the Hurons. _ 

Early the next spring Nicolet made his way back to 
the St. Lawrence by way of the now well-known Ottawa 
route. He had heard that Champlain was at Three 
Rivers, where he had but lately built a fort, and thither he 
went to give an account of his discoveries in the distant 
West. It would be interesting to know what Champlain 
thought of his story; but that great man was now so 
busily occupied in looking after other affairs in Canada, 
that he was unable to do more than listen and commend. 

He appointed Nicolet to be commissary and interpreter 
for the new settlement at Three Rivers, and induced him 
to give up the wild life of the woods and settle down to 
the more quiet occupations of the frontier post. But 
Nicolet always looked back with pleasure and regret to 
the adventurous days which he had spent among the sav- 
ages of the Ottawa; and in his latter days he was often 
heard to say that he would have lived and died as an 


The “ Father of Waters” 95 


Indian had it not been that he could not bear to absent 
himself wholly from the sacraments of the church which 
his mother had taught him to revere. 

Seven years after his return from the West he was acci- 
dentally drowned while on his way to a friendly tribe to 
plead for the life of a savage prisoner who had been con- 
Gemmedto torture. “‘He' left us examples,” wrote 4 


Jesuit priest who knew him — “he left us examples which 
recall apostolic times and inspire the most pious of men 
with a desire to imitate him.” Three of the five states of 


the Old Northwest — Michigan, Wisconsin, and Illinois 
—honor him as their discoverer. 

As for the great Champlain, who had done more than 
any other man for the upbuilding of French interests in 
Canada, he did not live long enough to follow 
up the discoveries which Nicolet had made. On 
Christmas Day, in the same year that the intrepid adven- 
turer returned from the West, he died, a disappointed and 
broken-hearted man. 9 


1635 


, 
/ 


THE JESUDY pMIsstonaARiRS 
I. THE RESIDENCE OF SAINTE MARIE 


OU will remember that when Jean Nicolet was setting 
out on his long voyage to the far West, he was 
accompanied as far as to the Huron country by two Jesuit 
priests, Father Brébeuf and 
Father Daniel. These men 
were the vanguard of a com- 
pany of zealous missionaries 
who, about this time, began 
their labors among the sav- 
ages of Canada. At the 
command of their Order 
they had given up home, 
country, friends—all that 
makes life dear—to carry 
the knowledge of their re- 
ligion to the  benighted 
heathen. They went forth 
without any means of sus- 


i 
\ 


tenance, trusting that Provi- 
dence would each day supply 
all their necessities. Hun- 


ger, cold, abuse of every 
‘The vanguard” sort, they bore without com- 
90 


The Residence of Sainte Marie 97 


plaint. They braved every danger, they shrank from no 
duty, they endured all things. Their motto was, “To the 
greater glory of God.’ Some of the Indians received them 
kindly and were glad to learn about the white man’s reli- 
gion; but others treated them with disdain, preferring to 
live in ignorance and to retain “the low and filthy habits 
of savagery.” 
_~ It was not until after they had patiently suffered many 
; indignities that Brébeuf and Daniel were able to win even 
the slightest favor from the Hurons. At length, however, 
their courage, their gentleness, their kindness even to 
their enemies, began to have an effect upon the depraved 
hearts of these savages. The people of two of the vil- 
lages joined together in building the missionaries a 
house. It was a house after the Huron fashion, framed of 
saplings and covered with sheets of bark. ‘The priests 
divided it by partitions into three rooms, one being a 
storeroom, another the kitchen and bedroom, and the 
third the chapel. In the chapel they built an altar, over 
which they placed the images and pictures which they had 
brought from France; and here Brébeuf gathered such 
of the people as would listen to him, and taught them 
some of the simpler mysteries of the Catholic faith. 
Soon other Jesuits came into the Huron country or were 
sent out among the neighboring tribes. The red men 
listened with some show of patience to all that the priests 
said to them, and some of them professed to believe. 


) 


“Yes, it is all true,” they would say; but when urged 
to adopt the Christian religion they would shake their 
heads and say, “It is very good for you Frenchmen, 


OLD NORTHWEST — 7 


98 The Jesuit Missionaries 


but we are another people, and our ways are different 
from yours.” And so, undismayed by sore privations and 
courageous in the face of repeated failures, the faithful 
Jesuit fathers worked on with untiring zeal, teaching by 

. word and example the 
nobility of the Christian 
life and faith. 

To promote the work 
of the missionaries, and 
provide for their greater 
safety, the Jesuits finally 
established, in the forest 
near the south- 


16 
eastern point of a 


In the chapel the Georgian Bay, a forti- 
fied post which they called 
the Residence of Sainte Marie. Here, protected on two 
sides by walls of masonry, and on the other by a ditch and 
a wooden palisade, were the headquarters of the Order. 
It was a place to which the fathers might repair for shel- 
ter in times of danger, or for needed: rest after seasons of 
labor and exposure. Within the inclosure were a church, 
a large kitchen and dining hall, and lodging rooms for 
sixty persons. Outside were a hospital and a long house 
for the accommodation of Indian visitors. 
To this place came others besides the Jesuit fathers — 
a small company of soldiers to serve as guards, and a few 
zealous lay brothers who were willing to serve the mission- 
aries in whatever way they could, without pay. Some of 
the latter spent their time in hunting and fishing; some 


The Sault Sainte Marte 99 


a 


cleared the ground and cultivated corn and wheat and 
garden vegetables; some were engaged in the care of 
poultry, swine, and cattle; and some of greater 

ability were intrusted with the management of  1639- 
the household and the defense of the fortifica- 1648 
tions. It was a strange community that thus 

.sprang up in the heart of the wilderness, and served for 
a time as the outpost of Christendom and the base of sup- 
plies for the Jesuit missions. 


Terabe SAULT SAINEE, MARIE 


Seven years after Nicolet’s voyage to the West, two of the 
fathers started from the Residence of Sainte Marie to carry 
the news of the Cross to the Indians on the upper ron 
lakes. One of these was Charles Raymbault, an 
enthusiast whose pious zeal was far superior to his bodily 
strength. The other was Isaac Jogues, a young man from 
Orleans, noted for his scholarship, his refined and gentle 
manners, and his devotion to the Church. Both these men 
had been for some time among the Hurons; but now, 
hearing of savages in more remote regions, they felt im- 
pelled to carry to them also the light of the faith and the 
knowledge of redemption. 

It is not unlikely that the story of Jean Nicolet’s dis- 
coveries was well known to Raymbault and Jogues. For, 
upon leaving the Residence, they turned their canoes 
directly toward the head of Lake Huron. It was in June 
when they began their voyage; in September they landed 
at the foot of the rapids which had turned Nicolet back 


100 The Jesuit Missionaries 


and prevented him from reaching that greatest of fresh- 
water seas, Lake Superior. Raymbault and Jogues called 
these rapids the Sault de Sainte Marie (Falls of St. 
Mary), and that is the name by which they are known to 
this day. 

At the foot of the sault was the village of the band of 
Chippewas who made this place their summer home; and 


— 


‘‘ At the foot of the sault’’ two hundred and fifty years later 


\ 


on the hills overlooking the river, nearly two thousand 
savages of other tribes were encamped. It was the cus-_ 
tom for great numbers of Indians to gather here every 
summer to catch the whitefish, which were very plentiful 
and easily taken. Here was a band of Pottawattomies 
from Lake Michigan, who had lately been driven from 


The Sault Sainte Marie Io! 


their homes by a war party of Iroquois. And here were 
Indians of unknown nations from the more distant West, 
who related strange tales of a mysterious river and of a 
warlike people who dwelt near it and whose manners 
reminded the priests of the wild Tartars of Asia. 

Although we have no record of the fact, there is reason 
to believe that Father Jogues ascended to the head of the 
rapids and beyond, and that he was probably the first of 
white men to behold the vast expanse of Lake Superior, 
extending westward to meet the setting sun. But Father 
Raymbault was unable to go beyond the sault. Ex- 
hausted by the long voyage and the innumerable hard- 
ships of it, his naturally feeble body could endure no. 
more. For a few days he lay helpless in the bark wig- 
wam of a friendly Chippewa, while Father Jogues ten- 
derly ministered to his needs. 

“Thad hoped,” said the dying man, ‘‘to pass through 
this wilderness to China; but God in his mercy has set 
me in the path of heaven!”—and then he passed 


away. 

With tears and prayers Father Jogues laid the body of 
his brother in the grave, and then, turning his back upon 
the sault and the lake that lay unexplored beyond it, he 
set out on his lonely return to the country of the Hurons. 
Early the next summer he was back at Quebec, 
whither he had gone, not to relate the story of 
his adventures, but to solicit aid for his brethren at the 
missions and at the Residence of Sainte Marie. Whether 
it was his intention to revisit the sault we do not know, 
for events soon took place which changed all his plans. 


1642 


102 The Jesuit Missionaries 


III. THE CAPTIVITY OF FATHER JOGUES 


On one of the last days in July, Father Jogues, having 
completed his work at Quebec, set out on his return to the 
missions in the Huron country. In his company were 
ve three Frenchmen and nearly forty Indians, some 
of whom had been converted to the Christian 
faith. They embarked in twelve light canoes, and, keep- 
ing at a safe distance from the south shore, paddled 
briskly up the St. Lawrence. For two nights they stopped 
at the new fort at Three Rivers, and on the following day 
entered that beautiful expansion of the river now known 
sas the Lake of; St,-Peter. 

Suddenly, at a time when they thought least of danger, 
they were surrounded by a fleet of Iroquois canoes manned 
by savage warriors yelling the fierce war cries of their 
nation. The Hurons, frightened out of their senses, 
paddled to the shore, and some of them escaped into the 
woods. Father Jogues might have saved himself in the 
same way, but, when he saw some of his friends in 
the clutches of pitiless Iroquois, he could not leave them, 
but gave himself up. 

The victorious savages with twenty-two prisoners soon 
set out on their return to their own country. They were 
near the mouth of the Richelieu River, and into that stream 
they paddled their canoes. Their course was southward 
over the same track that Champlain had followed thirty- 
four years before, when with his savage friends from the 
Ottawa he had won the undying hatred of the Iroquois. 
Entering Lake Champlain, they coasted along its western 


The Captivity of father Jogues 103 


shore until they reached, near its southern end, the narrow 
and turbulent stream that rushes down into it from the 
west. There, shouldering their canoes, they pushed for- 
ward through the woods and over the hills, dragging their 
prisoners after them, and making no pause until they ap- 
proached another sheet of water—a small but surpass- 
ingly beautiful expanse surrounded on every side by 


‘‘The most romantic of all our lakes’”’ 


guardian mountains. This, the most romantic of all our 
lakes, was known among the Indians as Andiarocte, or the 
Place where the Great Water Ends. It was named by 
Father Jogues the Lake of the Holy Sacrament; and this 
name it retained until the English, many years later, 
changed it to Lake George. 

What may have been the feelings of Father Jogues, 


104 The Jesuit Misstonaries 


first of white men to behold this matchless sheet of water, 
we cannot even guess. Suffering every kind of indignity 
from his cruel captors,—his hands mangled by their 
teeth, his body beaten with clubs, his face and hands 
scorched with hot coals, — 
he was not in a condition 
to observe and appreciate 
the beauties of nature. 
Moreover, all his thoughts 
were for his fellow-pris- 


oners, some of whom were 
in worse case than him- 
self; and, if he looked at 
all at the placid waters 
and at the silent, pitying 
mountains, it was only to 
contrast God’s eternal good- 
ness with the savage cru- 


elty of his creatures. 

The Iroquois, after a 
brief pause, again em- 
barked in their canoes, 


‘““He was led from town to town”’ 


and, with their faces turned 
southward, paddled onward without delay. They landed 
near the spot where Fort William Henry was to stand in 
later times. There they hid their canoes in the thickets ; 
and, then, elated by the success of their enterprise, they 
hastened through the woods to the Mohawk villages, on 
the banks of the river which is still called by the name of 
that fierce tribe, 


The Captivity of Father Jogues 105 


The story of the cruelties which these savages inflicted 
upon Father Jogues is too painful to relate. For more 
than a year he was made to suffer every abuse that hea- 
then ingenuity could invent. He was led from town to 
town, and in each was subjected to new and more terrible 
tortures. Never for an hour was his life secure; but he 
was equally ready for any fate, and although death would 
have been a welcome release from suffering, he gave 
thanks daily for the preservation of his life. At length, 
in the autumn of 1643, some Dutch settlers at Albany 
helped him to escape from his cruel masters. A small 
sailing vessel carried him down the Hudson to Man- 
hattan; and from that place he shortly afterward took 
ship for Europe. 

In France this gentlest of missionaries was received with 
the honor and reverence due to one who had borne so 
much for the cause of God and humanity. The ladies of 
the court vied with one another in showing him every kind- 
ness, and the queen kissed his maimed hands. But by 
Father Jogues these attentions were counted as nothing, 
en for his heart was set upon returning to Canada to 

renew his work among the savages. Early in the 
following spring he was again sailing up the St. Lawrence. 

Two years later, at his own urgent request, he received 
permission from his Order to go as a missionary to the 
Mohawk towns where he had suffered so much as a cap- 
tive. « “Ibo et non redibo,’’ —I shall go and shall not re- 
turn, — he said, as he took his departure. His words were 
prophetic, for in October of that same year he was slain 
by the hatchet of a treacherous Mohawk, 


106 The Jesuit Misstonaries 


IV. THE DISPERSION OF THE HURONS 


In the meanwhile, in the country of the Hurons, dread- 
ful days were approaching. Each year the pitiless Iro- 
8 quois pressed harder and harder upon their feebler 

neighbors; and each year the Hurons, in reckon- 
ing up, found their strength diminishing and the number of 
their warriors growing smaller. At length a party of Iro- 
quois, mostly Mohawks and Senecas, 
hastily crossed the St. Lawrence and 
made a raid into the Huron country, 
while the warriors of that tribe were 
absent from home, hunting in the 
great woods. They burned one of 
the villages nearest Lake Simcoe, 
destroyed the cornfields, killed the 
old men and many of the women and 
children, and carried many others 


164 


away as captives. 
Six months later a stronger party 
ae erie ee swooped down among the now thor- 
oughly terrified Hurons. One of the 
largest of the villages was taken and burned, and havoc 
and death followed in the path of the fierce invaders. 
Among the victims of Iroquois fury at this time was Father 
Brébeuf, whom you will remember as the first of the Jesuit 
missionaries to the Huron tribes. With Gabriel Lalemant, 
a young priest noted for his scholarship and refinement, he 


was made captive by the savages and doomed to die at the 
stake. He was a man of grand physique and noble bear- 


The Dispersion of the Hurons 107 


ing, and in the most terrible of all trials his courage never 
failed and his sublime manhood never forsook him. While 
suffering prolonged tortures too dreadful to be described, 
he maintained such fortitude and valor 
as no hero of ancient or modern times 


has surpassed. 

The Hurons were now so utterly 
panic-stricken that they gave up 
all hope and were unable to 
offer any resistance to their 
foes. They deserted and 
burned their villages, one by 
one, and then fled wherever 
they fancied there was 
promise of safety. Many 
took refuge on the islands 
in Georgian Bay, and there 
perished from famine. A 
few found their way to 
Quebec, where, being 
protected by the French, 
they felt themselves se- 
eure from the further 
vengeance of their ene- 
mies. Some fled to the dis- 
tant West—to the peninsula 
between Lakes Michigan and  ‘“‘His courage never 
Superior — where their de- fens 
scendants long maintained their tribal existence. Others, 
more cowardly, became renegades, and joined themselves 


108 The Jesuit Missionaries 


to the Iroquois tribes south of Lake Ontario, and became 
more savage than the Mohawks themselves. 

Thus the Huron nation ceased to exist. The country 
which it had possessed for an unknown period was over- 
run and ravaged by its foes, and the places which had 
been occupied by cultivated fields and populous towns 
were overgrown by briers and trees, and lost in the track- 
less wilderness. 

What could the Jesuit missionaries find to do in this 
land of desolation? They abandoned and burned their 
Residence of Sainte Marie; and such of them as survived 
the fury of the Iroquois sought other fields of labor, chiefly 
among the scattered tribes of the West. 


Peer OouURTH OF THE I GREAT LAKES 


Por Lw):, DARING’ FUR CLRADERS 


Gens des Terres 


Suns des Terres 


Ie Saar: “de Saiarte! 
2.Mackinac. 
3. Keweenaw Peninsula. 
4.Whitefish Point. 
iver St, Louis. 5 J 

6. Isle Royal. 
7.Janitoulin Island. Rr hoc 
8. Menominee River. 
9. Mission St, 77 Xavier. 
fh eg es Rocks. 

1. La Point eS 


ry xe" 
are tit 


aS 


Echelle de foLiews 


Copy of a map drawn by Jesuit missionaries in 1672 


FEW years after the dispersal of the Hurons, two 

Frenchmen of noble descent made a voyage of ex- 
ploration into the distant West. The elder of these 
men was Medard Chouart, commonly known as Sieur 
des Grosseilliers; the younger was his brother-in-law, 
Pierre d’Esprit, Sieur Radisson. They had already had 
a long and varied experience in the wilderness and 


109 


110 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


among savage men. Radisson when a mere boy had been 
taken captive by the Iroquois and adopted into one of 
their tribes, and during his stay with them had learned 
much Indian lore and acquired an intense passion for the 
woods. Grosseilliers was one of those unlicensed fur 
traders who ranged the wilderness and traded with the 
savages in defiance of the law which gave the control of 
such traffic to a favored company holding a license from 
the king. He had already made more than one visit to 
the northern shores of Lake Huron, and had paddled his 
canoe into almost every inlet and creek between the coun- 
try of the Nipissings and the Sault Sainte Marie. 

From their Indian friends, Grosseilliers and Radisson 
had heard vague stories of a great western river which 
flowed, not into the Lakes, but into some distant sea. 
Jesuit priests had also reported that it was only nine days’ 
journey from Green Bay to the water that lies between 
America and China. The two men at length deter- 
mined to make a voyage to the distant West, not so 

much to see if these stories were true, as to find 

whether there was a field there for profitable 
trade. It was past midsummer when they started from 
Three Rivers; but with strong, lithe Indians to paddle 
their canoes they made good speed on rivers and lakes, 
and before the autumn leaves had begun to fall they 
had passed the Strait of Mackinac and were coasting the 
northern shore of Lake Michigan. 

The story of their adventures is by no means clear, and 
historians are not agreed concerning their whereabouts 
during the next two years. It is quite certain, however, 


Two Daring Fur Traders 111 


that they crossed the Baie des Puans (Green Bay) which 
Nicolet had discovered twenty years before, and landed 
on the narrow peninsula which lies between that body of 
water and Lake Michigan. There they were welcomed 
kindly by a band of Pottawattomies, and with these 
Indians they spent the winter. 

In the spring they again embarked in their canoes, 


‘“‘A great flotilla of fur-laden canoes ”’ 


pushed on to the head of the bay, and visited the spot 
where Nicolet in his flowery robe had astonished the nation 
‘of the Winnebagoes. They paddled slowly up tee 
the Fox River, now swollen by April rains, and : 
at length reached the country of the Mascoutins. There 


they remained during a part of the summer, but whether 


112 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


they ventured farther westward at that time we have no 
certain information. They may have crossed the short 
portage to the Wisconsin and floated down to the Mis- 
sissippi, but of this there is no plain record. Radisson, 
many years later, wrote, “We were four months in our 
voyage, doing nothing but go from river to river;” and 
yet he leaves us in doubt as to whether he is telling of 
this voyage or of a later one. 

About two years after the departure of the adventurous 
traders from Three Rivers, a great flotilla of fur-laden 
1656 canoes descended the Ottawa, shot the rapids 

above Montreal, and continued its course on- 
ward to Quebec. The canoes were paddled by Chippewa 
Indians from Sault Sainte Marie, and the furs were 
those which Radisson and Grosseilliers had gathered in 
the distant West, from the tribes on the northern shores 
of Lake Michigan and in the forests farther away. 

For many months the fear of the Iroquois had prevented 
the friendly nations from visiting the posts on the St. Law- 
rence, and no furs had been brought to the markets. The 
one business in which every person in New France was 
interested seemed to be destroyed. Without the fur trade 
there would soon be no New France. 

It is easy to understand, therefore, the warm welcome 
which the returning traders received at Quebec. Guns 
were fired from the fort, and traders and soldiers and 
servants ran down to the water side to see the rich 
cargoes of furs that were to restore prosperity to New 
France. Radisson and Grosseilliers had bought these 
furs without license or permission from the government, 


Two Daring Fur Traders 113 


and were therefore liable to punishment. But every one 
was so well pleased that the king’s officers and the 
licensed traders dared not lift a finger, and all they 
could say was, “Don’t do it again.” 

What the two men did during the 
next three years is unimportant. But o 
at the end of that time they left ah is 
Quebec secretly, and, joining WEA 7, 


y 


a band of returning Indians, 
started again for the West. 
They ascended the Ottawa, 
crossed over to 
Lake Huron, 


Fah 
aw 
ey) Yy 
Ss 
Mo) 


UI ga 
vy 


Bair) gs 
Wil) 


WANS SM oy. 
hy Wee 


Owe, 


‘*The warm welcome which the returning traders received”’ 


paddled wearily over the route now so familiar to them, 
and reached in due time the villages of the fishing In- 
dians at the foot of the sault. After resting there a few 


OLD NORTHWEST — 8 


114 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


days, they carried their canoes around the rapids and pre- 
pared to launch them on the waters of the lake above. It 
is very possible that, since the discovery of this great water 
by Father Jogues, other white men had stood upon that 
very place and had gazed with questioning wonder upon - 
that mightiest of all our inland seas. It is even asserted 
that, during their former expedition, Radisson and Gros- 
seilliers had paddled many miles along the shore of this 
lake, making friends with the savages whom they met, 
and buying furs wherever they could find them. Be this 
as it may, they were now about to begin the first voyage 
upon Lake Superior of which we have any actual record. 
With four Huron Indians as canoemen the traders 
embarked, pushing boldly onward in a westerly direction, 
and never losing sight of the woods and low hills on their 
left. They rounded Whitefish Point, and after some days 
passed the famous Pictured Rocks, which, even in our 
time, excite the wonder of all who come within sight of 
them. They carried their canoes across the narrow neck 
which joins Keweenaw to the mainland, and launched 
them on the western side of that peninsula. Still follow- 
ing the south shore, they at length reached a group of 
green islands seeming to guard the entrance to a beautiful 
bay. They turned into the bay, and, near its head, landed 
upon a small triangular bit of ground which the French 
afterward called La Pointe, not far from the site of the 
present city of Ashland. It was a pleasant spot, and the 
voyagers decided to make it for a while their home and 
headquarters, perhaps a sort of trading post where the 
neighboring savages might bring their wares. They cut 


Two Daring Fur Traders 2b 


down trees and built a rude hut of logs, which they 
covered with bark and brushwood. Then, to protect 
the place from surprise by prowling Indians, they planted 
a row of tall stakes across the head of the little penin- 
sula, and on the side most exposed to attack they piled 
underbrush and_ branches 
of trees, among which were 
twined a number of cords 
attached to little bells. This 
humble hut, so strangely 
fortified, is well worth re- 
membering, for in truth it 
was the first dwelling built 
by white men within the 
limits of the Old Northwest. 

After staying in this place 
for a few weeks, the traders 
hid their canoes and goods in 


secret places in the woods, 
and set out to visit some 


: “The first dwelling built by 
kinsfolk of the Hurons who Steines 


were said to be living in 

the interior, many miles away. For six days they traveled 
in a southerly direction, and on the seventh found, far 
hidden in the wilderness, the little band for which they 
sought. 

These people, whom the French called Petuns, or 
Tobacco Indians, because they raised tobacco, were a 
tribe of the Hurons who had sought in this distant 
land a refuge from the fury of the Iroquois. They 


116 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


told the two Frenchmen of their sad adventures since 
being driven from their homes on the shores of the 
Mer Douce. 

In company with some Ottawas, they had gone first to 
the islands near the entrance of Green Bay; but hardly 
had they put up a few rude shelters when word came that 
the Iroquois were on their track. Terrified, they fled to 
the mainland, and, with their faces turned westward, made 
their way through the wilderness until they reached a clear- 
flowing stream (the Wisconsin) whose banks were bordered 
by groves of giant trees. There they built themselves 
canoes in which they floated until they reached another 
and much nobler river —a river as beautiful and grand as 
the St. Lawrence. They ascended this river a few leagues 
and entered a smaller stream, the Ayoes (Upper Iowa) 
which flows into it from the west. It was a pleasant 
stream, and buffaloes and other wild game were plentiful ; 
but the land was bare of trees, and the Hurons loved 
the woods. They therefore returned to the great river 
and paddled slowly northward against the current until 
they came into the country of a warlike nation called the 
Dakotas or Sioux. At first the Sioux were friendly and 
encouraged them to make their homes among them. But 
soon difficulties arose, and the fugitives were obliged to 
seek some other abiding place. Going back, down the 
great river, they saw entering it on the left a forest- 
bordered stream which seemed to offer the means of 
refuge from both Sioux and Iroquois. Near the sources 
of this river the Hurons decided to stop and make new 
homes. They put up a few lodges, began a small clearing, 


Two Daring Fur Traders 117 


and felt that, after so many weary years, they were safe 
from their foes; and it was here that Radisson and Gros- 
seilliers found them. Their Ottawa friends who had shared 
their wanderings did-not stop with them, but continued 
their journey northward to the shores of the great lake. 

The two traders remained with the fugitive Hurons 
several weeks, hunting and trapping and making long 
journeys in various directions. But it is to be regretted 
that they left us no clear account of their adventures, and 
we shall never know how far they went into the interior 
of the country. 

Radisson long afterward wrote a brief, hazy narrative 
of some of their explorations, but whether his story relates 
to this journey or to the earlier one from Green Bay, there 
is some doubt. ‘We went,” he says, “to the great river 
which divides itself in two where the Hurons had retired. 
The river is called the Forked, because it has two branches, 
one toward the west, the other toward the south, which 
we believe runs toward Mexico.” | 

Could this mysterious stream have been the Mississippi? 
In another place he relates that they embarked upon a 
“great river’? which flowed southward, and that, after 
journeying for many days, they reached a land where the 
air is always warm, and the climate “finer than that. of 
Italy.” 

From their Huron friends the traders heard many 
wonderful stories about the Nadouechiouec, or Sioux, 
who roamed over the vast treeless plains of the West 
and had many customs unknown to the red men of the 
East. They were said to be as warlike and cruel as the 


118 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


Iroquois, and were the terror of all the neighboring tribes. 
The two Frenchmen supposed that they were now quite 
near the borders of China, for the Sioux seemed to them 
to resemble in many respects the Tartars of eastern Asia. 
They were therefore anxious to make the acquaintance of 
these people and learn more about their habits and the 
country in which they lived. And so, late in autumn, 
they left the Huron settlement and started in a north- 
westerly course through the pathless wilderness toward 
the country of the Sioux. To woodsmen like Radisson 
and Grosseilliers the way was not difficult, and they soon 
arrived in the well-watered region which lies between the 
St. Croix River and the upper waters of the Mississippi. 
There they were met by a small band of Sioux who wel- 
comed them to their country, and led them to their village 
on the shore of a little lake. They remained with their 
savage friends all winter, hunting and fishing, and learn- 
ing something of the Sioux language, which was very 
different from that of any other Indians they had met. 

As soon as the snows were melted in the spring they 
returned to La Pointe, where they found their goods and 
canoes just as they had left them; but the little hut had 
suffered from the storms of winter and required rebuilding. 
Here they rested for some time; but game was scarce 
and food was hard to find, and so in early summer they 
again embarked in their canoes and set out for a further 
exploration of the lake. With their faithful Huron canoe- 
men they followed the windings of the shore, stopping 
now and then to trade with the strolling savages whose 
hunting grounds were there. They reached the western 


Two Daring Fur Traders 119 


end of the lake, and in the prairie region beyond met with 
a band of Sioux called Poualaks, with whom they made 
a short and not unpleasant stay. Some of these Indians 
lived in tents made of skins and others in houses of turf; 


‘* Stopping now and then to trade’’ 


and, as wood was very scarce, they made fire with coal 
which they found in the earth. 

Radisson and Grosseilliers would have been glad to go 
farther into the interior; but the short summer was now 
more than half gone, and they were anxious to ee 
return home before the coming of cold weather. 


Everything seemed to favor them, the journey was 


120 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


made without mishap or delay, and before the end of 
August they were in Montreal. They brought with them 
sixty canoes, paddled by three hundred Indians, and laden 
with all kinds of precious furs and peltries. 

Their reception this time was not a pleasant one. They 
were guilty of violating the law; they had traded with the 
Indians without license from the gov- 
ernment; they had boldly disobeyed 


the commands of the king’s officers 
not to return to the Great Lakes. 
Their entire store of furs, 
which they had collected 
with so much labor and 
peril, was therefore seized 
upon by the officers and 
confiscated for the king. 
Can we wonder that after 
receiving such treatment, Gros- 
seilliers and Radisson were ready 
to seek service in some other coun- 
try where they would be dealt with 
more justly? They went first to New 


In Hudson Bay 


England and then to London, where 
they aroused much interest in the fur trade of North 
America. . They also persuaded some English merchants 
and noblemen that it would be easy to discover a short 
1663 Passage to the South Sea by sailing around 

the northern part of the continent. At length 
a ship was fitted out for them and they made a voyage 


to Hudson Bay, returning with a rich cargo of furs 


The Manitou of the Copper Mines 121 


and glowing accounts of the country they had visited. 
Two years later, largely through their influence, a trading 
company was chartered, — the ‘‘ Hudson’s Bay Company,” 
—which grew to control, and still controls, the greater 
part of the fur trade in America. 


Il. THE MANITOU OF THE COPPER MINES 


No other Europeans had penetrated so far into the 
interior of North America as Radisson and Grosseilliers, 
and we may safely infer that when they first returned to 
the St. Lawrence they related many strange tales of 
what they had seen and heard. Everybody in Canada 
became greatly interested in the newly found regions 
bordering upon Lake Superior, and much was said about 
their wealth, not only in furs, but in precious metals. 

There was no doubt now as to the place where Etienne 
Brulé’s famous lump of pure copper had been found. 
In a little book written at this time and published in Paris, 
it was stated that “in Lake Superior there is a great 
island which is fifty leagues in circumference, in which 
there is a very beautiful mine of copper.” 

It was also said that along the shores of the lake large 
pieces of pure copper could be picked up, and that in one 
place some Frenchmen had seen a single mass of the metal 
which they thought would weigh more than eight hundred 
pounds. The Indians knew where many rich mines might 
be found, but they would not tell any one, lest they should 
offend the manitou, or spirit, that guarded these treasures. 

“A long time ago,” they said, “men knew nothing 


{Aes F 


a i 3 tae 
122 The Fourth of the Great Lakes 


about this precious metal. They saw it lying upon the 
ground, but regarded it no more than the worthless stones 
that are found everywhere. One day four hunters in 
their canoe were driven by a storm far out into the lake. 
They saw an island before them and hastened to land 
upon it. There they built a fire, and, having caught a fish, 
they thought they would boil it for supper. Their only 
kettle was of bark, and into 
this they put the fish and 
some water. Then they 
picked up the stones that 
lay on the shore and heated 
them red hot and threw 
them in. They were unlike 
any other stones they had 


ever used in this way ; they 


“The island seemed full of lynxes”’ 


were pure copper. As the 
yellow pieces fell into the kettle, fearful sounds were heard 
in the air, and threatening voices cried out from among the 
trees. The flames of their camp fire blazed up high and 
became green as grass, and the smoke that rose from it 
was full of dancing creatures unlike any that had ever 
before’ been “seen, ’ The -hunters “ate their fish im “ereat 
dread and then hastened to embark in their canoe. The 
island seemed full of lynxes and hares as large as dogs, 
and the men were glad to get away from it; but they took 
with them some of the shining pieces of copper. As they 
paddled from the shore, a voice called after them in tones 
of thunder, ‘Who are these thieves that steal my chil- 
dren’s playthings?’ It was the manitou of the island, or 


Lhe Manitou of the Copper Mines 123 


else the god of the waters. The hunters were almost 
overcome with terror, and no sooner had they reached the 
mainland than three of them died. The fourth, pursued 
by fearful phantoms, ran into the forest and after many 
days came to his own village. There he told the wonder- 
ful story, but while he was yet speaking he fell back dead. 
Do you wonder that the Indians will not tell you where 
the copper may be found?” 


THE BIRTHS OF VAR GRBA ALES 
I. THE HIDDEN WATER 


HE Jesuit missionaries and the fur traders in the 
country of the Hurons had become well acquainted 
with all that region which lies between Lake Ontario and 
the head waters of the Ottawa. But southward and west- 
ward they dared not 
go, so great was their 
fear of the Iroquois 
whose war parties were 
known to infest that 
region. From the time 
of Champlain’s earli- 
Este Visit Sto Sthe went 
Lawrence, frequent re- 
ports had come to the 
French "of “a2 great 
inland sea which was 


said to lie between 
the Mer Douce of the Hurons and Lake Ontario. 

Indeed, from the vague descriptions given by the Indians, 
maps had been drawn showing the possible location and 
extent of that unknown water—marvelous waterfalls at its 
outlet, and its northern and southern shores of indefinite 
extent stretching in hazy lines to the right and the left and 

124 


Louts Joliet 125 


ending in mysterious and unknown regions. It is not 
unlikely that some daring woods ranger had visited these 
shores, but, if so, he had carried back to civilization no 
account of what he had seen. 

The lake remained unknown to Europeans—as com- 
pletely removed from the knowledge of the world as were 
the mighty rivers which, hidden deep in the wilderness, 
were waiting silently for the coming of their discoverers. 
From time to time meager reports were brought in by 
wandering savages, vague hints were dropped of a vast sea 
in the midst of an uninhabited region. But these reports 
only awakened curiosity and spurred to no determined 
effort to discover the hidden water. 


Pee LOU S ORI i 


After the return of Grosseilliers and Radisson, there 
was scarcely a summer that did not see some bold trader 
or some zealous missionary among the Indian tribes on the 
shores of the great upper lake. All brought back the 
same story of hidden treasures of copper; and some did 
more, for they carried with them nuggets of the yellow 
metal which they had picked up or had bought from the 
natives. 

The intendant (general manager) of Canada, Jean Bap- 
tiste Talon, hearing of these things, was fired with the idea 
of discovering the secrets which he believed still 7667 
lay concealed in the lake regions of the West. 

Was there really a passageway by water to the South 
Sea? If so, he must find it. Was it indeed true that 


126 The Fifth of the Great Lakes 


vast mines of copper existed along the shores of the upper 
lake? If so, he must must know about them. After hav- 
ing studied these questions with much care, he went to 
France and laid the whole matter before Colbert, the 
prime minister of the king. 

‘“‘ By all means,” said Colbert, “discover those deposits 
of copper and find some way by which to send the metal 
to France. If there is any truth in the stories which you 
tell me, this will be of far greater importance than the 
discovery of a new route to China.” 

When Talon returned to Canada, he sought out Louis 

Joliet, the son of a wagonmaker at Quebec, and 
1668 intrusted to him the task of exploring the shores 
of the upper lake and of discovering the hidden treasures 
of that remote region. 

Joliet was then twenty-four years of age. He had 
been educated by the Jesuits,.and from his boyhood had 
expected to be a priest. But the fur trade proved to be 
more attractive to him than the Church; and so, after hav- 
ing fitted himself for the priestly vocation, he at the last 
hour changed his mind and decided to become a trader 
and adventurer. The intendant knew him to be a man of 
rare good sense, cautious, and at the same time fearless of 
danger; and he selected for his companion a young voya- 
geur named Peré, who had spent much of his life on the 
rivers and lakes of the western wilderness. 

The two explorers were sent out without any definite 
instructions as to what they should do or how long they 
should stay. In such matters they were to be guided by 
their own judgment, 


The First Voyagers on Lake Erte £27 


Il. THES FIRST VOYAGERS TON LAKE ERIE 


Of the adventures of Joliet and Peré in quest of the 
hidden mines of copper we know but little, for neither of 
them left any written account of their long and 
hazardous voyage. It is enough to say that, after 
spending a whole summer on the shores of Lake Superior, 
they had found no more of the ruddy metal than they 
GOUulde-castlys carry in» their, canoes. (They, therefore 
decided to give up the search and, if possible, make some 
new discoveries elsewhere. From the Indian tribes along 
the shore of the lake they had heard vague references 
to a great water that lay far to the west and south; but 
whether this water was a lake, an arm of the ocean, or a 
broad river, they could obtain no definite information. 

Joliet was anxious to push on by the nearest route from 
Lake Superior and discover this water; but the summer was 
now well advanced, and he agreed with Peré that it would 
be wiser to postpone such enterprise until another year. 

The two explorers therefore turned in another direc- 
tion. They retraced their way to the outlet of the lake, 
passed the Sault Sainte Marie, where there was now a 
Jesuit mission, and paddled down the broad river until it 
lost itself in the upper reaches of Lake Huron. Then, 
turning to the right, they followed in the track of Jean 
Nicolet along the wooded shores of the upper peninsula. 
They passed, on their left, the rocky islet of Mackinac, 
and they saw the sea of Lake Michigan stretching south- 
ward farther than eye ‘could reach. They entered the 
Baie des Puans— Green Bay —and pushed onward until 


128 The Fifth of the Great Lakes 


they came to the mouth of the Fox River. The Winne- 
bagoes whom Nicolet had found dwelling there had removed 
farther inland, and other Indians had their bark wigwams 
near the head of the bay. With these Joliet and Peré 
smoked the pipe of peace, and from them they heard still 
other stories of a great water farther west —no doubt the 
same of which Nicolet had been told, and which he declared 
to be only three days’ journey from the portage of the Fox. 

The two explorers did not remain long at Green Bay. 
Embarking again in their canoe, they retraced their way 
as far as Mackinac. They then crossed the strait, and, 
holding close to the western shore of Lake Huron, pushed 
boldly along through unknown waters toward the south- 
east. No other white men had ever followed this route 
in returning to the St. Lawrence. 

They passed Thunder Bay and the much_ broader 
entrance to Saginaw Bay. They rounded Point aux 
Barques, and skirted the green shores southward until 
the lake had narrowed to a strait, and they entered the 
stream that has since been called the St. Clair River. 
Following this sluggish current, they passed onward into 
the shallow lake of the same name, and thence into the 
broad channel of the Detroit, from which they finally 
emerged upon the sleepy waters of the Lake of the Eries. 
It was thus that the fifth and last of the Great Lakes 
was discovered and entered by white men. Fifty-four 
years had elapsed since Joseph le Caron had 
first beheld the Mer Douce of the Hurons, and 
thirty-five since Jean Nicolet had passed the Strait of 


1669 


Mackinac and paddled his canoe on Lake Michigan. 


A Remarkable Meeting 129 


IV. A REMARKABLE MEETING 


Joliet had not found the copper mines as Talon had 
desired, but he had made a discovery of far greater impor- 
tance. He had found a new way to the distant West 
—a way which would shortly supersede the toilsome 
route up the Ottawa River and across the lake of the 
Nipissings. 

After passing the Detroit, the explorers turned to the left 
and skirted the north shore of Lake Erie. They moved 
with the greatest caution, for they were now near the 
haunts of the dreaded Iroquois. With each hour’s prog- 
ress the fears of their guides became greater; and so, 
instead of following the shore to the point where the 
lake finds an outlet by way of Niagara, they turned into 
Grand River and made their way up that stream to the 
place where it approaches nearest to the western end of 
Lake Ontario. Then, shouldering their canoe, they pushed 
through the woods to a village of friendly Indians near — 
the site of the present city of Hamilton. 

A pleasant surprise was in store for them. Scarcely 
had they set foot in the village when they learned that 
another party of Frenchmen had just arrived from the 
east. One of these men proved to be Robert Cavelier 
de la Salle, a young man of great ambition, who had 
lately come to Canada with the intention of thoroughly 
exploring the rivers, the lakes, and the woods of the 
unknown West. With him were two Sulpician priests, 
Fathers Dollier and Galinée, and a number of hired men, 
interpreters, and Indian guides —twenty-three persons in 


OLD NORTHWEST — 9 


130 The Fifth of the Great Lakes 


all, and seven canoes. La Salle was bent on discovering a 
river whose sources were said to be in the forest south of 
the lakes. The Sulpicians were seeking for a place where 
they could establish a mission without trespassing upon 
the territory already occupied by the Jesuits. 

All listened with the utmost interest to Joliet’s story of 
his voyage through the lakes. He showed them a map 
of the route which he had 
followed, and told them 
of the various tribes of 
Indians he had _ visited. 
The priests were delighted 
to hear of regions and 
peoples hitherto unknown, 
and believed that Provi- 


dence had miraculously 


‘‘ A pleasant surprise was in 
store for them ”’ 


opened new fields for the 
exercise of their mission- 
ary zeal. They therefore determined to go on to the upper 
lakes, following the route by which Joliet had come; and 
being told of the benighted Pottawattomies somewhere in 
the vast region beyond the Mer Douce, they resolved to 
carry to those people the knowledge of the cross. 

On the last day of September the three parties sepa- 
rated. La Salle, with his Indian guides, started southward ; 
the Sulpician fathers began their long journey 
into the wild Northwest; and Joliet and his com- 
panion betook themselves to their canoe and continued 


1669 


their homeward voyage along the north shore of Lake 
Ontario. 


POW e iT GRE Pl REV ER S--WERE 


Mec) i) 


DHE BEAUTIFUL REV ER: 


| Ray wd BY, Glee 2 Oe Blo 


OBERT CAVELIER, Sieur de la Salle, was a native 
of the old Norman city of Rouen, and his father had 


been one af the wealthiest merchants of France. The 


young man had been educated with great care by the 


Jesuits, and it was supposed that when 
he came to the proper age he would 
join himself and his fortunes with them. 
But, being of a restless nature, and his 
mind full of ambitious dreams, he chose 
another career. 

His elder brother, the Abbé Jean 
Cavelier, was a priest of St. Sulpice and 
had been in Canada for several years. 
Through him La Salle heard wonderful 
stories of the endless forests, the great 
lakes, and the hidden rivers of North 


Sieur de la Salle 


America. He heard, too, of the wealth that might 
be gained by trading with the Indians, and of the fame 


that might be won by making new discoveries in that 


131 


132 The Beautiful River 


land of marvels. And so, at the age of twenty-three, he 
left his home and sailed for Canada, resolved to find there 
a fortune and the long-dreamed-of northern passage to 
the South Sea and the golden East. 

He stopped neither at Quebec nor at Three Rivers, but 
went directly to Montreal. For the island at the meet- 

ing of the rivers was now no longer a solitude, 

but the center of many commercial and religious 
activities. Near the spot where Cartier had landed and 
where Champlain had planned his Place Royale, a forti- 
fied town had been built. It had been founded by reli- 
gious devotees from France, just one year before the 
birth of La Salle. These people had begun by building 
a church and a hospital, after which they had invited 
settlers to come and put up houses and make homes in 
the near neighborhood. ‘Then it had become necessary 
to build a palisade around the dwellings and to construct 
a fort that was strong enough to protect the place from 
the attacks of any enemy. And very soon a busy, thriv- 
ing town had sprung up not far from the site of the 
ancient Hochelaga. 

The religious association which had brought all this 
about had soon given place to a corporation of priests 
called the Seminary of St. Sulpice. This corporation 
was the owner of all the lands on the island and in its 
neighborhood; it made the laws for the government of 
the settlers; it regulated and controlled all the affairs 
of the town and the country around it. One of the 
Sulpicians or priests composing this powerful corporation 
was La Salle’s brother, the Abbé Cavelier; and it was 


eh ar ee 


La Chine 133 


through his persuasion that the young man made Mon- 
treal the starting-place for the accgmplishment of his 
ambitious projects. 


Tie ie GEE 


It was a strange assemblage of people that La Salle 
saw when he landed in Montreal. Here were priests 
and nuns in great numbers, Jesuit missionaries just re- 
turned from the haunts of savagery, French fur roo 
traders, noblemen and ladies late from the gay 
circles of Paris, voyageurs from the inland lakes and 
rivers, soldiers, half-naked Indians from the north and 
west —and even a sprinkling of [roquois from the south, 
for that nation had recently made a treaty of peace with 
the Canadian governor. 

The Sulpician brotherhood welcomed the young adven- 
turer warmly, for they looked upon him as a recruit to 
their ranks and one who would be useful to them in their 
management of public affairs. They did not suspect that 
he had plans of his own, which he intended to carry out 
whether favorable to their interests or not. Being just 
now free from the dread of the Iroquois, they were anx- 
ious to establish a line of settlements westward along the 
St. Lawrence to serve as outposts to Montreal; and they 
needed but little persuasion to induce them to grant to 
young La Salle for his own use a large tract of land at 
the head of the rapids about eight miles above the fort. 
The land was covered with dense woods, but it was just 
the place for a trading post, being near the upper end 
of the island and right in the way of the flotillas of canoes 


134 The Beautiful River 


as they came down the St. Lawrence laden with furs for 
the markets below. © 

La Salle began work without delay. He gave small 
plots of ground to as many settlers as would become his 


tenants, and with their aid he proceeded to cut down the 

1663 ees and clear away the underbrush. By the 

end of the next year he had built a village with 

a strong palisade around it, and his people had planted 
ten or twelve acres of corn. 

From the windows of his house La Salle could overlook 


the river, seeing on his left the rushing rapids which had 


i te 


/* to 


La Chine 135 


daunted the enterprise of Cartier and Champlain, and on 
his right the beautiful expanse known as Lake St. Louis. 
At this time his mind was full of projects for discovering 
the long-sought passage to the South Sea, and he looked 
upon this clearing on the banks of the St. Lawrence as 
his first station on the road to China. His enemies, of 
whom there were soon many enough, laughed at his 
pretentious dreams, and in derision called his estate La 
Chine (which is the French way of saying China); and 
to this day the Sault St. Louis, which there begins its 
grand rush to the lower level of the river, is known as 
Lachine Rapids. | 

But it must not be supposed that La Salle, while over- 
seeing this work of clearing and building and planting, 
was forgetful of other enterprises. He was not idle fora 
moment. He studied the languages and habits of the 
Indians —not only of the Algonquin and Huron tribes, but 
of the Iroquois also. He made a journey up the Ottawa, 
talked with traders and priests and voyageurs, and at last 
made up his mind that the future water route across the 
continent was more likely to be found toward the south- 
west than elsewhere. 

He was more than ever confirmed in this idea by some 
Iroquois chiefs of the Seneca tribe who visited his settle- 
ment the following winter. They told him that, by going 
into the wilderness, a little way beyond their own country, 
one might come to a great and beautiful river flowing 
toward the southwest. 

The name of that stream was Ohio, an Indian word, 
which in French meant La Belle Riviere, or in English 


136 The Beautiful River 


the Beautiful River. The Indians declared that a voyage 
from its source to the place where it emptied into the 
salt sea could not be accomplished in the swiftest canoe 
within a shorter period than eight months. Such a voy- 
age, they said, would be attended with many difficulties, 
and he who should once descend the river could scarcely 
hope ever to return. 

La Salle questioned the Senecas very closely, and there 
is reason to suppose that they told him much more than 
they knew. After studying over the matter he concluded 
that this mighty river of the Ohio must have its outlet in 
the Vermilion Sea, now called the Gulf of California, and 
that through it might be found the desired passageway 
to the ‘western ocean. He decided, therefore, to lose) -no 
further time, but to begin his explorations in search of 
that river as soon as possible. 

He visited Courcelle, the governor of Canada, and 
Talon, the intendant, and told them his views and plans. 
They listened to his reasoning and were easily convinced ; 
and the governor gave him a letter authorizing him to 
discover the Ohio and follow it to its mouth, taking 
possession of the lands on both sides of it in the name 
of the king of France. 

But La Salle had no ready money, and none of his 
friends were willing to invest anything for the promotion 
of so uncertain an enterprise. The only thing to be done, 
therefore, was to sell his estate of La Chine and hazard 
everything upon the success of this first venture. With 
a part of the money so obtained he bought four canoes 
and supplies for a long voyage, and hired fourteen men 


La Belle Riviere 137 


as canoemen and guides. Two Sulpician priests, Dollier 
and Galinée, eager to establish a mission in some quarter 
unoccupied by the Jesuits, were just ready to start to the 
distant West, having with them three canoes and half a 
dozen assistants. These gladly agreed to bear La Salle 
company, at least for a part of the way. 


lil. -LA BELLE: RIVIERE 


On the 6th of July the little company embarked at 
La Chine, and paddled up the St. Lawrence. It was 
a time of peace with the Indian tribes, and 1669 
hence they were safe from the Iroquois bands 
who usually patrolled the woods on the south bank of 
the river. At length they reached Lake Ontario, and, 
turning to the left, skirted its southern shore. After 
seven weeks of toil and exposure they entered Ironde- 
quoit Bay, a: few miles east of the place where now 
stands the city of Rochester. | 

They landed, and La Salle, with Father Galinée and a 
few others, made his way to a village of the Senecas some 
distance inland. He hoped that among these Indians he 
would find guides to show him the most direct way to 
the head waters of the Ohio. But his knowledge of the 
Iroquois language was not very perfect, and the wily 
savages either could not or would not understand what 
he said. Nevertheless they made a feast for their visitors, 
and tried to entertain them by torturing a prisoner whom 
a band of their braves had captured in the far interior. 

Only one of the Indians was willing or able to give 


138 The Beautiful River 


them any information. He told La Salle that it was 
folly to try to reach the Beautiful River, for the savage 
people who haunted its shores would surely kill him. 
When questioned further he said that he did not know 
much about the river in question, but that he had heard 
of a region in the south where there were no trees, and 
of a fertile country hard by a noble stream that flowed into 
the salt sea; but whether this stream was the Ohio or some 
other river whose name was unknown, he could not say. 

Before the feast was fairly at an end most of the 
Seneca braves were wildly drunk, and La Salle and his 
companions were glad to retire and hasten back to their 
canoes. The party now moved on, following the shore 
of the lake toward the west. On the third day they 
passed the mouth of a great river and heard the roar 
of a distant cataract—the cataract of Niagara. At last, 
late in September, they came to an Indian village at the 
extreme western end of the lake. There, to their great 
surprise, they were met, as we have already learned, by 
the two explorers Joliet and Peré, returning from an 
expedition to the upper lakes. 

In this village was a prisoner awaiting the day when 
he should be tortured to death for the amusement of 
his captors. He was said to belong to a distant tribe 


known as Shawnees—a tribe whose home was in the 


depths of the forest on the banks of the undiscovered 
Ohio. La Salle eagerly sought this prisoner and ques- 
tioned him about the hidden river. The savage gave 
him a glowing account of the beautiful stream and of 
the country through which it flows, but told him that 


Se ee) ee eee ean ee Sa a ae ee 


Sh eae Se ee ee eee eee ee 


ee 2+” 


La Belle Riviere 139 


it would require six weeks of hard traveling to reach it. 
If now the French chief could only secure his freedom he 
would guide him thither by the easiest and shortest route. 
La Salle hastened to ask the villagers to give him their 
captive; and after he had appeased them with presents, 
the grateful Shawnee was delivered into his hands. 

After parting with Joliet and the Sulpician priests on 


‘The grateful Shawnee was delivered into his hands ”’ 


that last day of September, La Salle with his canoemen 
and his Shawnee guide directed his course southward. 
But by what route he went we are entirely igno- 
1669 

rant; for now for several months he dropped, 

as it were, out of sight. It seems quite certain, however, 
that, early in the following year, he discovered the river 
Ohin, and that he floated down its broad current as far 


as to the falls where the city of Louisville now stands. 


140 The Beautiful River 


Some suppose that he crossed the narrow divide on the 
southeast of Lake Erie, launched his canoes on Chautau- 
qua Lake, and thence, floating down the Allegheny, found 
the Ohio at the place of its true beginning. Others think 
that he followed the south shore of Lake Erie to the 
mouth of the Cuyahoga River, and then, going up that 
stream and making a short portage, he found an easy 
passage to the Muskingum and through it to the Ohio. 
Of this, however, we have no certain information, and shail 
never be able to do more than guess at the truth of it. 

La Salle’s men, it is said, deserted him in the wilder- 
ness, and it is not known that one of them ever returned 
to Canada. Some, however, made their way to the Dutch 
settlements on the Hudson, and others were heard of 
afterwards in New England. But La Salle was not 
daunted by difficulties. He went back alone to Montreal, 
still cherishing the hope, not only of discovering the 
secrets of the Northwest, but of making his discoveries 
profitable both to himself and to France. 


a a 4 


ON SEHR GPPER: LAKES 
I. MENARD 


OUTH of Lake Superior and far toward its western 
extremity there were a number of fugitive Hurons 
and vagrant Ottawas, who had fled thither from the fury 
of the Iroquois. So utterly crushed and terrified had 
these people been after the destruction of their ancient 
homes near the shores of the Mer Douce, that they 
seemed to think of nothing but to hide themselves away 
in places too remote to be discovered by their relentless 
foes. Not far from the shores of Chequamegon Bay, in 
Wisconsin, the Ottawas had finally made a halt; and, 
being pleased with the place, they built there a few huts 
and began to make some small clearings. The Hurons 
had stopped in the marshy wilderness, many miles farther 
south. 

The first white men to discover these people in their 
new homes were the French traders, Grosseilliers and Ra- 
disson, while making their famous tour of Lake Superior 
about the year 1659. - These men carried back to Quebec 
the story of the flight of the fugitives and of their poverty 
and friendlessness in a strange land. The story was lis- 
tened to with eagerness by the Jesuit fathers, and René 
Ménard, a priest who had seen years of the hardest service 
among the Hurons and the Iroquois, was selected to be 

141 


142 On the Upper Lakes 


the apostle of these unfortunate people. The heart of 
the good father was moved with pity for the wretched 
heathen, living and dying like cowering beasts in the 
forest. 

“Yes, I will go,” he said; ‘I will give my life for 
them.” | 

When the Indians who had come down with Grosseil- 
liers and Radisson were ready to return to their homes, 
Father Ménard asked and obtained leave to accompany 
them. With him went his servant, Jean Guérin, and seven 
other Frenchmen, intent upon trading with the distant 
tribes. 

The journey, as we know, was a long one, and Ménard 
was little able to endure the labor and privations which it 
entailed. He was fifty-seven years old, but the toil and 
suffering which he had already endured among the sav- 

1660 28° had whitened his hair and enfeebled his 
body until he seemed a venerable man of eighty. 
Yet his strong will buoyed him up, and after a few days’ 
rest at the Sault Sainte Marie he was ready and anxious 
to hasten forward. 

It was the intention of the party to proceed to La Pointe, 
the place where Grosseilliers and Radisson had built their 
hut, but, on account of an accident to one of their canoes, 
Ménard with his servant went on shore near the head 
of Keweenaw Bay. He at once sought out a band of 
vagabond Ottawas, who had set up their lodges a short 
distance inland. But these degraded people did not 
feel that they needed such sympathy and help as the 
missionary had come to offer them. While treating him 


Ménard 143 


with some show of friendship, they laughed at his kindly 
concern for their souls, and refused to listen to his 
religious teaching. 

The winter came, very cold and cheerless in the 
wretched huts of the Ottawas. Father Ménard, himself 
the soul of kindness, met with nothing but rebuffs and 
cruel neglect. The coldness of the north wind hurtling 
through the thin walls of his bark hut was less distressing 
than the utter indifference, the thanklessness, and folly of 
the savages whom he wished so much to help. He could 
not make a single convert — scarcely could he win a single 
friend. | 

As soon as the spring was well advanced, Ménard 
determined to go in quest of the Hurons who lived a 
hundred miles southward. It was the first of 56% 
July, however, before he was able to set out, 
taking with him Jean Guérin and some Huron hunters as 
guides. The ground was soft, and the streams were 
swollen from recent rains. There was no road—not 
even a footpath; and the way led through tangled 
thickets and treacherous marshes. The feeble mission- 
ary was unable to keep up with his guides, and he and his 
servant were left behind. The two men contrived to fol- 
low the trail of their faithless friends until they reached 
a small lake whose outlet was a southward flowing river. 
Here, after fifteen days of aimless wandering, they found 
a canoe which they thought had been left there for their 
use. They embarked, and floated with the stream — it was 
the main branch of the upper Wisconsin. The change 
was very grateful to Father Ménard, whose strength could 


144 On the Upper Lakes 


not have carried him much farther. Sitting at his ease in 
the bow of the canoe, he murmured hymns of thanksgiving 
for the mercies he had received. 

Thus they had floated for fifty miles or more, when 
they saw rapids ahead, strong and turbulent, tumbling 
wildly over rocks and 
yn gee among drifts of fallen 


timber. 

“Do you think you 
can guide the canoe 
safely through that 
fearful turmoil?” 

“T will try, master.” 

“It would be easier if it were 
not loaded so heavily. Let me 
lighten it by going ashore. I will 
walk through the woods and meet you 
at the foot of the falls.” 

And so the feeble man was put ashore. 
But there was no trail around the rapids. The way was 
obstructed by thick underwoods, briers, trailing vines, 
quagmires, and fallen trees. At last he found what 
seemed to be a faint path; he followed it; it led farther 
and farther from the river. The sound of the rushing 
rapids was soon lost to his ear. Night was coming on; 
Father Ménard stumbled along through the darkening 
woods; he listened, but the silence of the forest was 
about him; he called, but received no answer. And now 
the path disappeared, there was nothing to guide his 
footsteps through the lonely solitudes; -he knew not 


Ménard 145 


whether the river was on his right hand or on his left; 
he was hopelessly lost. 

When Jean Guérin reached the foot of the rapids he 
waited long for his master. He called, but 
only the echo of his own voice answered. 
Five times he fired his gun, hoping to 


direct the wanderer to the right 
spot. He built a fire and sat by 
its blaze all night, listening for. 
any sound that might betoken 
the nearness of the good father. 
On the following day he met 
a band of Hurons and besought 
them to go in search of their 
lost friend; but in their heart- 
lessness they refused. <A few 
weeks later a Sac Indian came 
to the Huron settlement 
with the camp kettle which 
Father Ménard was in the 
habit of carrying with him. ‘‘The priest's breviary and cloak”’ 
He had picked it up in a 
thicket of underwoods were were footprints pointing 
westward. Some Sioux I1r€jns, while hunting in another 
place, found the priest’s b&jary and cloak lying on the 
ground, probably where thei: wner had stopped to rest. 
But Father Ménard was never seen again; and no one 


knows how he perished, whether from hunger or exhaus- 


tion, or whether he was slain by wild beasts or savage’ 


men. 
OLD NORTHWEST — IO 


146 On the Upper Lakes 


ts “ALLOUEZ 


When the story of Father Ménard was told to his 
brethren in Canada, they resolved that his death should 
spur them to more heroic efforts for the salvation of 
unworthy souls. But it was four years before any active 
steps were taken to carry on the work which he had 
attempted to begin. At length Claude Allouez, a man in 
the prime of life, brave, zealous, and born to leadership, 
was chosen to be missionary to the fugitive Hurons. It 
was past midsummer when he started to the field of his 
ie labors. Four hundred savages, who had come 

down from the upper lakes to barter their furs, 
were returning to their homes; and the sturdy missionary 
was pleased to make the greater part of the journey with 
them. 

How wonderful had been the change in the life and 
customs of the Indian nations since the coming of the 
French traders into the valley of the St. Lawrence! 
Formerly each tribe had dwelt in its own place in the 
forest, its men seldom venturing far from their own clear- 
ings and villages. They were contented with their little 
belongings, and their knowledge of the world was limited 
by the horizon. But when ttraders came, and the red 
men learned that for a few g#s they could purchase won- 
derful articles, both useful and beautiful, a new epoch 
began for them, and their ways of life were altered. 
Their hunters and trappers traversed the forests far and 
near in quest of fur-bearing animals. They became 
acquainted with distant tribes, and were easily persuaded 


a 


Allouez 147 


to change their places of habitation; and they undertook 
long and perilous journeys to dispose of the peltries which 
they had gathered, and to see the ways of the white men. 
Thus it had happened that the savages of the upper lakes, 
whovhad so lately been unknown, had felt the charm of the 
traders’ presence and had come out of their solitudes to 
have intercourse with the superior race —an intercourse 
which in the end would be their destruction. 

It was early in September when Allouez reached the 
Sault Sainte Marie, and there he parted from his savage 
escort. The Ojibways, or Chippewas, welcomed 665 
him to their village at the foot of the rapids, and 
with them he would gladly have tarried; but duty required 
him to go forward toa more distant field. With only a few 
companions he embarked on the upper lake, a portion of 
whose shores had been made known through the explora- 
tions of Grosseilliers and Radisson. The visit of Joliet 
and Peré to these waters, of which we have already learned, 
did not take place until three years later. 

Allouez was delighted with his voyage upon the upper 
lake, © OF all the fresh-water seas he had beheld, 'this 
seemed to him the grandest; and in his enthusiasm he 
christened it Lake Tracy, in honor of the Marquis de 
Tracy, the new lieutenant general of Canada, from whom 
the Jesuits expected great things. 

Near the end of the month the intrepid missionary 
reached Ld Pointe, at or near the place where Radisson 
and Grosseilliers had built their hut. Ina straggling village 
close by, where Indians of several tribes had come together, 
he founded the mission of St. Esprit, and there he built a 


148 On the Upper Lakes 


bark chapel as a place of worship —the first church, if we 
may call it such, within the limits of the Old Northwest. 
Not far from the head of the bay were other villages, 
where lived some eight hundred savages belonging to 
various Algonquin tribes, the greater number being vagrant 
Ottawas. Over all these, as 
well as over the Hurons, far- 
ther inland, Father Allouez 
hoped to extend some sort 
of pastoral care. 

TO the= mission: ofa 
Esprit the savages soon 
began to resort in large 
numbers; and the zealous 
Allouez used many devices 
to secure their confidence 
and friendship. He told 
them that the French would 
surely crush and utterly sub- 
due their old enemies, the 
Iroquois; and he assured 


“He built a bark chapel” them that the time would 
soon come when they could 

return to their old homes by the head waters of 
the Ottawa and on the shores of the Mer Douce. 
With their young men he explored much of the country 
along the lake shore; and from them he heard of the 
mysterious copper mines, and of the great water called 
“ Missipi” which flowed through mysterious regions far 
to the south. On one of his excursions he fell in with 


. 


Marquette 149 


a roving band of Sioux Indians—the terror of the West 
—and from them he learned that their home was on 
the treeless prairies farther west, while beyond was an 
unknown land bordered by the great salt sea. But, with 
all his zeal and enterprise and patience, the missionary of 
St. Esprit made but few converts, and the savages, espe- 
cially the Ottawas, remained as savage and degraded as 
before. | 
Hi MAROULDETE 


About a year before the coming of La Salle te Canada 
there arrived on the St. Lawrence a young Jesuit priest, 
whose name was Jacques Marquette. He was of 666 
a gentle disposition, refined, well educated, and 
intent only upon doing good. No sooner had he set foot 
upon Canadian soil than he began to prepare himself for the 
duties of a missionary among the savages of the Northwest. 
After spending a year and a half at Three Rivers, study- 
ing the languages of the principal Indian tribes, he set out 
with a party of returning natives to the distant shores of 
Lake Superior. He arrived at the Sault Sainte Marie 
without mishap, and took up his abode with the Chippewas, 
who rejoiced that he had come to establish a mission among 
them. There he was soon joined by another missionary, 
Claude Dablon, and the two, with the help of their first 
converts, built a little church on the bank of the river, 
and surrounded it with cedar pickets. It was near the 
spot where the gentle Raymbault had been laid by his 
sorrowing companion, Father Jogues. 

The rude building had scarcely been completed when 
Marquette was commanded to go still farther west and 


150 On the Upper Lakes 


assume charge of the mission of St. Esprit at La Pointe. 
He obeyed without asking why; but when he presented 
himself to take the place of the veteran Allouez he 
learned the reasons for the change. Among the Indians 
on the shore of Green Bay there had lately come from 
Canada a party of reckless young Frenchmen — lawless 
woods rangers, or coureurs de bois —who were outdoing 
the savages in deeds of violence and crime. The Potta- 
wattomies and other tribes near the River Fox, degraded 
though they were, were horrified by the doings of these 
desperadoes. To Father Allouez in the distant mission 
of St. Esprit they sent a messenger, praying him to come 
and tame the wild spirits of the men of his own nation. 
“We are daily in fear for our lives. We are terrified by 
their wickedness. Come, and teach them something about 
that religion of gentleness of which we have heard.” 
Could the veteran missionary refuse to listen to this 
appeal? To the superior of his Order in Canada he 
wrote an account of the whole matter; and the result was 
that he received permission to go among the tribes of Green 
Bay, to preach conversion to the red savages and to reprove 
and restrain the white. But who should carry on the work 
which he had begun at La Pointe? Surely no man was 
better fitted for that duty than young Father Marquette. 
And this was why Marquette had been removed from 
his appointed field at the Sault Sainte Marie. Allouez 
ees proceeded at once to the Green Bay region; and 
on the Fox River, not far from its mouth, he 
set up among the Pottawattomies and other tribes the 
mission of St. Francis Xavier. 


St. Lsprit 151 


| TA prego fe ONY SA i IF 


The mission of St. Esprit had never prospered. The 
Indians for whom it had been established were hardened 
wretches whose hearts could not be touched. The com- 
manding presence of Allouez and the gentle ministrations 


a= SS AYR = ue 
= === =a aie ‘iii il 


‘‘ Vengeance was sure and swift’’ 


of Marquette failed alike to win them to virtue and piety. 
There were, it is true, a few converts among the women 
and children; but the men, while tolerating the mission- 
aries, took pleasure in making their lives as uncomfort- 
able as possible. 

Soon after Marquette’s arrival at the mission there came 
to La Pointe a small party of red men, who brought furs 
to barter to the French traders. Marquette was struck 
by the gentle manners of these men, so different from 


152 On the Upper Lakes 


the rude insolence of the Ottawas, and he asked them the 
name of their tribe. They told him that they were IIli- 
nois, and that their home was far southward in a land 
of prairies beyond a mighty river. They listened with 
great patience to Marquette while he tried to unfold some 
of the truths of religion, and this so filled his heart with 
pleasure that he vowed to visit their country and establish 
a mission among them. 
Wandering bands of Sioux—daring and haughty sav- 
ages —also came to La Pointe and repeated the story of 
the “‘Missipi,” of treeless plains beyond it, of a mysteri- 
ous sea of fetid water. And from still other Indians 
Marquette heard strange tales of a distant country where 
the corn ripened twice a year, and the people wore glass 
beads, and winged canoes went swiftly up and down the 
river. Surely he was on the threshold of a strange new 
world which no European had yet entered or explored. 
But for the heathen around La Pointe dreadful days 
were near at hand. To the unhappy Hurons, hiding from 
the vengeance of the Iroquois, there seemed to be no end 
of misfortune. Scarcely had they begun to feel settled in 
their new home when another terrible disaster befell them. 
Some friendly Sioux who were visiting in the villages were 
set upon and treacherously murdered by a party of hot- 
headed young Ottawas. Vengeance was sure and swift. 
A war party of Sioux—TIroquois of the West, as Mar- 
quette called them — swooped down upon their settlements, 
and Hurons and Ottawas, like frightened sheep, fled into 
the forest. The houses and wigwams were burned, the 
crops were destroyed, the whole country was laid waste. 


woe a 


Dollier and Galinée 153 


The trading post at La Pointe was burned, the mission of 
St. Esprit was abandoned, and Father Marquette, fleeing 
with his flock, finally made his way back to the Sault 
Sainte Marie, there to await whatsoever might occur. 


V. DOLLIER AND GALINEE 


One afternoon in May the two missionaries, Marquette 
and Dablon, were told that some white strangers were 


‘In the foremost sat two priests ”’ 


approaching the sault from below. Going down to the 
river's side they saw four canoes coming slowly 
up the stream. These were manned by Huron 
Indians, and in the foremost sat two priests wearing garbs 
that were plainly not those of Jesuit missionaries. 


1670 


154 On the Upper Lakes 


The two newcomers proved to be our old acquaintances 
of the Sulpician brotherhood, Dollier and Galinée. We 
have already seen how, in the preceding summer, they 
had set out with La Salle upon a tour of exploration, and 
how in the early autumn they had met Joliet in an Indian 
village at the head of Lake Ontario. After leaving the 
village they had launched their canoes on Grand River 
and descended that stream to Lake Erie. In a sheltered 
grove, secure from the northwest winds, they built some 
bark huts and in one of them erected an altar; and there, 
with their servants and followers, they spent the winter. 
With the opening of spring they began to make ready to 
continue their voyage. Not far from the water’s edge they 
raised a cross, and, with much ceremony and in the name 
of the French king, took possession of the lake and all the 
land surrounding it. Then, embarking in their canoes, 
they paddled westward, keeping close to the northern shore 
and looking in vain for some sign of human life. After 
losing one of their canoes, which was blown away from 
its moorings while they were asleep on land, they safely 
entered the broad river Detroit. A favoring wind helped 
them on their way northward, and, passing through the 
St. Clair, they emerged upon the bosom of the Mer 
Douce of the Hurons. Following the windings of the 
shore of that great water they continued on their course. 
They crossed the head of the lake, threaded their way 
through a labyrinth of green islands, paddled slowly up the 
River Sainte Marie, and finally, as we have seen, arrived 
at the already famous sault. They were the first white 
men to journey from the St. Lawrence to the region of 


Marquette 155 


the upper lakes by way of the now familiar route through 
the lower lakes and the Detroit. 

Marquette and Dablon received the two Sulpicians 
kindly, but with no great show of hearty welcome. With- 
out unnecessary rudeness they soon made it plain to 
Dollier and Galinée that they were looked upon as tres- 
passers in a field of labor which was already occupied. 
The Sulpicians therefore wisely concluded not to stay long 


MICHIGANE ou 
IYER DOUCE des HURONS 


Map drawn by Galinée 


where their presence was disagreeable. . After a few 
days’ rest at the sault they bade their hosts good-bye, 
and, giving up their schemes for missionary labor, started 
homeward. With a French voyageur as guide, they fol- 
lowed the old route back by way of Lake Nipissing and 
the Ottawa, and before the end of June were among their 
brethren in Montreal. They had been absent more than 
ten months, and were obliged to report to their brethren 
that their journey had not been as successful as they had 
hoped. 


156 On the Upper Lakes 


VI. ST. IGNACE 


In the meanwhile, what was the fate of the remnant of 
the Hurons in the far Northwest? With the vengeful 
Iroquois on the one hand and the ferocious Sioux on the 
other, these people were in desperate straits. But they 
remembered that the French had befriended their nation 
on more than one occasion, and they believed that in the 
neighborhood of the trading posts they might find protec- 
tion from their foes; and so in their distress they resolved 
to go back to their old hunting grounds near the shores of 
the Mer Douce. When, however, they reached that point 
of land which extends southward into the Strait of Macki- 
nac, their dread of the Iroquois became so strong that 
they halted there and were unwilling to go farther. The 
water was full of fish, 
life would be easy, their 
enemies would scarcely 
dare to seek them in 
that secluded spot. It 
was a good place in 
which to make new 


homes for themselves. 
Some of their Ottawa neighbors who had suffered - with 
them settled also on the same peninsula; but the greater 
number continued their flight to the Manitoulin Islands 
at the head of Lake Huron. 

When news of the whereabouts of the fugitives was 
carried to Father Marquette at the Sault Sainte Marie, 
he at once hastened to join them and to offer them such 


Saint-Lusson 157 


help and encouragement as was in his power to give. On 
the shore of the strait, within sight of the rocky islet of 
Mackinac, he set up the mission of St. Ignace, and began 
to gather around him the wretched remnants of the scat- 
tered tribes. The Indians called the entire region Michili- 
mackinac (Mackinac), and by that name the post was 
known, both while it was on the north side of the strait 
and also after its removal, many years later, to the oppo- 
site shore. : 


VII. SAINT-LUSSON 


While Marquette was busy building his chapel at Macki- 
nac, and doing deeds of kindness to a suffering people, 
preparations were being made for a strange Here 
and imposing ceremonial at the Sault Sainte 
Marie. French officers from Quebec were expected, and 
there were to be solemn feasts with the Indians, and mock 
battles, and a grand pageant such as had never been seen 
on the American continent. Messengers had been sent 
out to invite all the friendly tribes from Lake Nipissing to 
La Pointe, and from Green Bay to the frozen rivers of the 
North, to come and take part in the festivities. The cere- 
monial had been planned by Nicholas Perrot, a young 
ranger of the woods, who even at that early period dimly 
recognized the vast importance of the lake region and saw 
in the wilderness Northwest the seat of future empire. It 
had been sanctioned by Talon, the intendant of Canada; 
and he had selected the Sieur Saint-Lusson, a soldier of 
France, to represent the French king before the savage 
nations that were invited to attend. 


158 On the Upper Lakes 


On the fourteenth of June the hosts had arrived. The 
Sieur Saint-Lusson, clad in the brilliant regalia of his office, 
ascended the slope that rises from the south side of the sault. 
With him as aids and lieutenants were Louis Joliet, already 
famous for his explorations, and Nicholas Perrot, the 
ranger and trader, besides several Frenchmen from Mon- 
treal and four Jesuit fathers dressed in their priestly robes. 


“an a) Plulw \oazd> Ge | 
a Ayal 
i ea 


\, 
WO 
a “ft 


‘‘ Father Dablon went forward’’ 


Following these was one of the strangest throngs ever 
seen in our own or any other country. There were fur 
traders and trappers, Canadian voyageurs, and soldiers 
of France; and flanking the hill on both sides were the 
warriors and chiefs of fourteen savage nations, gay in 
their holiday trappings, hideous with paint and feathers, 
loathsome in person and in manners —all mingling together 
in strange and unaccustomed friendship. 


— 


Saint-Lusson 159 


A huge wooden cross had already been carried to the 
top of the hill, and around it the motley procession moved. 
Then, while all stood still and made some show of rever- 
ence, Father Dablon went forward and blessed it; and 
when the emblem had been reared and firmly planted, 
the Frenchmen, with uncovered heads, sang an ancient 


hymn :— 
“The banners of heaven’s King advance ; 
The mystery of the cross shines forth.” 


By the side of the cross a cedar post was raised, and 
upon it was nailed a metal plate inscribed with the royal 
arms of France. This done, the Sieur Saint-Lusson 
stepped forward, and, raising a sod of earth with one 
hand and flourishing his sword with the other, made proc- 
lamation in the name of Louis XIV., the king of France. 
He declared that he took possession ‘‘ of this place, Sainte 
Marie du Sault, as also of Lakes Huron and Superior, the 
Island of Manitoulin, and all countries, rivers, lakes, and 
streams contiguous and adjacent thereunto: both those 
which have been discovered and those which may be 
discovered hereafter, in all their length and _ breadth, 
bounded on the one side by the seas of the North and 
West, and on the other by the South Sea.” 

At the close of this speech the Frenchmen shouted 
“Vive le roi!” and the Indians, not to be outdone, yelled 
and hooted like thousands of demons. Then Father 
Allouez made a speech to the dusky warriors, telling them 
of the grandeur and might of his master Louis XIV., 
who was “more terrible than thunder, and moved in the 
midst of his warriors covered with the blood of his ene- 


160 On the Upper Lakes 


mies. . . . But what shall I say of his riches?” he con- 
tinued. ‘You think yourselves rich when you have ten 
or twelve sacks of corn, a few hatchets, beads, kettles, and 
other things of that sort. He has cities of his own, more 
than there are of men in all this country for five hundred 
leagues around. In each city there are storehouses where 
there are hatchets enough to cut down all your forests, 
kettles enough to cook all your moose, and beads enough 
to fill all your lodges. His house is longer than from here 
to the top of the sault [that is, more than half a league] ; 
it is higher than your tallest trees; and it holds more 
families than the largest of your towns.” 

It was a wonderful speech, adapted to the understand- 
ing of the savages and appealing to their wildest fancies. 
When it was ended there was another tremendous chorus 
of yells; and then white men and red men returned to the 
village to enjoy the feast that had been prepared and to 
witness the sham battles with which the great day was 
closed. Thus, by an imposing ceremonial in the heart of 
the wilderness, France took formal possession of the Great 
Lakes, the unknown rivers, and all the rich lands of the 
Northwest. 


Ho sb LD Bane LV ER. 
I.. THE EXPLORER AND THE MISSIONARY 


OUIS JOLIET had other business at the Sault Sainte 
Marie besides attending the grand ceremonial to 
which Saint-Lusson had invited him. The discovery of 
the hidden river of the West was the one object of his 
thoughts, and all his energies were now 
being directed to its accomplishment. 
Of the Indians who had come to the 
sault from the West and the South, 
he asked many questions about this 
mysterious stream; but they could tell 
him nothing of value, and their vague, 
disconnected stories only whetted his 
desire to see and know for himself. 
He returned to Quebec much discour- 
aged, but not yet ready to give up hope. 


Count Frontenac 


In the following spring a new gov- 

ernor took charge of affairs in Canada. His name was 
Louis de Buade, but he is known in history by his title, 
Count Frontenac. Next to Champlain he stands dena 
highest among the makers of New France. He 

was already growing old, was headstrong and extravagant, 
but just the kind of man to deal wisely with the Indians 
and extend the French influence in the Northwest. He 


OLD NORTHWEST — II 161 


162 The Hidden River 


heartily hated the Jesuits, and it was not long before he 
had a bitter quarrel with the Sulpicians. It was plain to 
everybody that a new order of things was about to begin 
in Canada. 

Count Frontenac had already heard of Louis Joliet. 
The intendant, Talon, had spoken to him of that young 
man’s rare ability as an explorer and had told him of 
his discoveries on the lakes. He was asked to speak 
for himself, and, before the summer was ended, he was 
commissioned to make an expedition into the far West, 
and, if possible, discover the mysterious river of which 
so many rumors were afloat. 

Joliet did not waste any time in making preparations. 
Early in December he arrived at Mackinac, where Father 
Marquette was busy attending to the needs of 
the little band of Hurons that had gathered 
around his mission of St. Ignace. The explorer had 


1672 


heard of the gentle priest as a man who had made a 
careful study of all that was known about the country 
west of the lakes, and he believed that from him he 
would be able to learn many valuable facts. 

Marquette was delighted to receive his visitor, for he 
was already deeply interested in the project Joliet had 
undertaken. We can easily imagine the two men sitting 
in the missionary’s little cabin and talking about the 
subject that was dearest to the thoughts of both. 

‘When I was at La Pointe four years ago,” we may 
suppose Marquette to say, “I heard a great deal about 
the undiscovered river of the West. The Indians who live 
near it call it the Missipi; and they say that for more 


The Explorer and the Misstonary 163 


than three hundred leagues from its mouth it is wider 
than the St. Lawrence at Quebec. For a long distance 
it flows through a treeless prairie land; but as it nears 
the sea its banks are again bordered by forests. Along 
the river, from the country of the Sioux to its mouth, 
there are many tribes of savages who speak different 
languages and have different customs, and are always 
waging war upon one another. These are some of the 
things that were told me by a band of red men who 
call themselves Illinois. I would that I could go to them 
in their own home in the Missipi country, as indeed I 
promised them; for they are truly a gentle-hearted people, 
eager to learn, and not so utterly depraved as some of 
the more northern tribes.” 

This and much more did the missionary impart to the 
explorer; and it was almost unnecessary for Joliet to say 
that he had brought from the governor, and from the 
Superior of the Jesuits at Quebec, definite instructions 
to Marquette to be his companion in a tour of discovery 
beyond the Great Lakes. The good priest needed no 
other commission. It was agreed that, early in the fol- 
lowing spring, as soon as the lakes should be free from 
ice, they would set forth together and not return until 
the mystery of the hidden river was solved. 

The winter was spent at Mackinac, putting everything 
in readiness for the voyage. From Indians who had 
been at Green Bay, Marquette made careful inquiries 
about the country and the best westerly routes; and from 
such information as was given he drew a rough map — 
mostly mere guesswork—of their intended course. 


164 The Hidden River 


Il. (THE FOX SAND THE WISCONSIN 


On the 17th of May the explorers set out in two birch- 
bark canoes, with five men as assistants and guides. “I 
fon placed our expedition,” wrote Marquette, ‘‘ under 

the protection of the Holy Virgin Immaculate, 
promising that if she granted us the favor of discovering 
the great river, I would give it the name of Conception.” 

They followed the same route along the northern shore 


of Lake Michigan that Jean Nicolet had traversed thirty- 


VAL ie baat 07 ee 
ia ies 


‘“They beheld an Indian town”’ 


nine years before. They entered Green Bay, and stopped 
a day in the village of the Menominees, or Wild Rice 
Indians. These friendly people were astonished when 
they heard that the white men were on their way to 
the great river. 

“The river,” said they, ‘abounds in monsters which 
devour both men and canoes; and the nations that dwell 
along its banks never spare the strangers that venture 
among them.” 


The Fox and the Wisconsin 165 


“T will gladly lay down my life for the salvation of 
souls,” answered Marquette; and, uttering a _ simple 
prayer which he desired them to repeat, he left them 
wondering. 

The next stop was made at the head of the bay, and 
near the De Pere rapids they found Father Allouez at 
his mission of St. Francis Xavier. There they tarried a 
day or two, and then, still following in the track of Jean 
Nicolet, they pushed onward up the river of the Foxes. 

They skirted the shores of Lake Winnebago, and fol- 
lowed the winding stream beyond, now paddling through 
thickets of wild rice, and now gliding between wooded 
shores where they caught glimpses of rolling meadows 
in the distance. At length they came into the country 
of the Mascoutins, the Miamis, the Kickapoos, and the 
Foxes. They beheld an Indian town, built on a hill in 
the midst of a prairie; and as they drew near, Marquette 
was rejoiced to see a cross planted in the center of a 
cluster of wigwams. The intrepid fathers, Allouez and 
Dablon, had visited this spot three years before; they 
had set up this emblem of the Christian faith ; they had 
explained its mystic power, and taught the natives to 
hold it in reverence. The simple-hearted savages had 
decorated it with their most precious possessions, bows 
and arrows and savage ornaments, to appease the Great 
Manitou of the white man and give him thanks for the 
game and the plenteous harvests that he had sent them. 

The explorers landed, and, going up to the village, 
called a council of the chiefs. They came, eager to see 
their visitors and learn their wishes. Among them were 


166 The Hiddew River 


stately warriors of the Miami nation with locks of hair 
falling over their ears, Mascoutins of smaller stature and 
ruder mien, and Kickapoos with ungainly forms and 
unpleasing features. Joliet explained to these savages 
the object of their journey, saying that he himself had 
been sent out by the French king to discover new coun- 
tries, and that Marquette had come as the messenger of 
the Great Manitou to enlighten the hearts of the red men. 
Then, after telling them that two guides were needed to 
show the way, he gave to each man a present, and sat 
down. The chiefs, who had listened with great interest, 
not only consented to give them the guides, but presented 
them with a mat to be used as a bed during the voyage. 

On the toth of June the explorers again embarked 
in their canoes. Guided by two Miamis, they followed 
Saye the narrowing stream through swamps and wet 

meadow lands until at length they reached the 
place of portage and must needs carry their canoes and 
goods across the land. Their path led them through a 
level prairie, dotted with ponds where wild rice was 
growing, and, after a winding course of two miles, ended 
on the banks of a westward-flowing stream. Here, with- 
out more delay than was necessary, the travelers again 
launched their canoes. ‘The guides returned,” says 
Marquette, “leaving us alone, in this unknown land, in 
the hands of Providence.” 

The stream upon which they embarked was _ broad, 
with many sandy shallows. It would carry them to the 
great hidden river; but whither then would they be 
borne? Did the waters of the “ Missipi” flow westwardly 


The Fox and the Wisconsin 167 


to the Gulf of California, or mayhap directly into the 
South Sea? Or did they pursue a more eastward course 
and finally empty into the Mexican Gulf or into the Sea 
of Virginia? These were questions which the explorers 
hoped to solve, but which they now asked themselves 
with many doubting surmises. 

Following the winding current of the Wisconsin, they 
floated onward, now passing between grassy banks 
shadowed with thick foliage, and now emerging into a 
region of rich bottom lands bordered by tree-covered 
bluffs. Tall oaks and wal- 
nuts and trees of unknown 
species grew along the shore; 
and the banks were lined 
with thickets of underbrush 
and trailing vines. In the 
forest they saw little game; 
but, now and then, in the 
prairie-like openings, they 
caught glimpses of deer and 
other animals grazing among 
the rank herbage. 

This river, upon which 
they floated for about forty 


leagues, was called by Mar- 


' “They caught glimpses 
quette the Mesconsing, for eit 


so he understood the Indians 

to pronounce it; and the French traders who afterward 
came into that region gave it the similar name, Ouisconsin 
— or, as it is spelled in English, Wisconsin, 


168 The Hidden River 


lil. THE VOYAGE 


It was the 17th of June when, as Marquette relates, 
the explorers ‘‘entered happily the Great River with a joy 
roe that I cannot express.” Joliet, in gratitude to 
Count Frontenac for sending him upon this 
expedition, named the river La Buade; but Marquette, 
remembering the vow he had made, called it the Concep- 
tion. Neither of these names, however, was able to 
supplant the Indian designation, Mississippi, “‘the Father 
of Waters.” 

No one can understand the feelings of the explorers as 
their canoes shot out upon the deep current of the myste- 
rious stream which had so long been the goal of all their 
hopes. Throughout the day they kept in midstream and 
paddled leisurely along with the current. Toward even- 
ing they landed in some secluded nook to cook and eat 
their supper; then, as darkness began to fall, lest they 
should be surprised by some lurking foe, they pushed 
out from the shore and anchored, lying in their canoes 
until morning. 

Thus, for more than a week, they continued their voy- 
age, their way lying between the banks that border the 
present states of Illinois and Iowa. On either hand they 
saw broad prairies interspersed with groves and watered 
by many streams. Now they caught sight of flocks of 
deer browsing on the uplands; now they heard the call 
of wild turkeys among-the trees by the shore; and now 
they beheld large droves of buffaloes — “ Illinois oxen 
clothed in wool’’— moving slowly over the grass-covered 


The Voyage 169 


plains. From time to time they saw monstrous fish in the 
water, and one of these struck so violently against the canoe 
that the voyagers were in danger of being thrown into the 
water. And once they saw a monstrous panther, “ with 


IVR 


He Sate 
| i yah i i 
iN i 
| i ig | 


WN | ih 
i ANN i 


‘**T}linois oxen clothed in wool’ ”’ 


the head of a tiger, and a pointed snout like a wild-cat’s,” 
swimming in the stream. 

At length, on the western bank, they discovered the 
footprints of men and a well-trodden path leading up to 
a beautiful prairie. They landed, and Joliet and Mar- 
quette fearlessly followed this path, anxious to know what 
sort of people lived in that region. It led them a distance 
of six miles, over hills and through meadows and woods, 
until they came within sight of a village on the bank 


170 The Hidden River 


of a river. With hesitating steps and prayers for God’s 
protection they went forward until they were near enough 
to hear the voices of the Indians in their wigwams. 
Then, halting, they uttered a loud shout. 

The Indians heard them. Four old men came out 
to meet them, carrying the calumet, or peace pipe, deco- 
rated with many kinds of feathers. They walked very 
slowly and with great deliberation; and when at last 
they drew quite near they stopped and gazed at the 
strangers, not saying a word. 

Marquette, who understood many Indian languages, 
asked them who they were. ‘We are Illinois,” they 
said, meaning thereby, ‘We are men;” and they offered 
the peace pipe. Indians and Frenchmen then walked 
together to the village. 

The chief of the tribe stood naked in the doorway of 
his cabin to welcome the strangers. 

“Oh, strangers,” he said, ‘how beautiful is the sun 
when you come to visit us! Our whole village welcomes 
you, and you shall enter all our wigwams in peace.” 

Having said this he led them inside, where were all the 
warriors and great men of the village, eager to greet them. 
“Well done, brothers,” they said; “it is kind of you to 
visit us!”’ And then all smoked the calumet together. 

Soon there came other savages to invite the strangers 
to visit the great chief of all the Illinois, whose village was 
ona hill not far away. They went, and were followed by 
a crowd of men and boys who danced by the roadside and 
tumbled among the grass in their excessive joy at behold- 
ing the faces of white men. Upon arriving at the second 


The Voyage 171 


village they were received by the great chief with hearty 
expressions of joy. “I thank thee, Blackgown,” said he 
to Marquette, “for taking so much pains to come and 
visit us. Never has our river been so calm, nor so free 
from rocks, which your canoes have removed as they 
passed; never has our 
tobacco had so fine a 
flavor, nor our corn ap- 
peared so beautiful as 
we behold it to-day.” 
And then he gave pres- 
ents to the white men: a little slave and a calumet adorned 


The calumet 


with colored feathers. 

After this a great feast was served, consisting of hom- 
iny, fish, a broiled dog, and fat buffalo meat. The two 
Frenchmen tasted sparingly of the first two, and refused 
to touch the third; but the fourth was more appetizing, 
and of it they ate heartily, much to the satisfaction of 
their hosts. At the close of the feast they were led 
through the village, so that all the natives might see them 
without being troublesome; and every one was anxious 
to give them some sort of present, a belt, or a garter, or 
some simple ornament made of feathers or of the hair of 
the buffalo dyed red, yellow, and gray. When night came 
on they were led back to the chief’s wigwam, and buffalo 
robes were spread upon the ground for them to rest upon. 

The next day, escorted by nearly six hundred of the 
natives, the Frenchmen returned to their canoes and 
again embarked upon the Mississippi. Paddling along 
with the current, they passed on their left the mouth of 


172 The Hidden River 


the river afterward known as the Illinois, and looked up 
with wonder at castle-like rocks along the shore, on which 
the Indians had painted the figures of horrible monsters. 
A few days later they heard the roar of the Missouri, 
called by the Indians the Pekitanoui, or muddy river; 
and soon saw- its swift current rushing like a conqueror 
into the quieter Mississippi, and seeming to hurry it along 
in its journey toward the sea. Whence came this mighty 
river if not from a region bordering upon the western 
ocean? “TI have hardly any doubt,” said Marquette, ‘that 
through this river lies the way to the Vermilion or Cali- 
fornia Sea, and I do not despair of one day making the 
discovery.” | 

Continuing their course, the explorers passed the site 
of the present city of St. Louis; but in the dense forest 
which then covered the spot there was nothing to fore- 
shadow the bustling marts and the noisy streets of the 
future metropolis of the West. A few days later they 
glided past the mouth of the Ohio, or La Belle Riviere, 
which Marquette called the Ouabouskigon. Its low and 
swampy shores were covered with dense canebrakes, and 
Marquette saw here nothing to indicate the greatness of 
the stream or to hint of the beauty of its upper reaches. 
He was told that it came from a country inhabited by 
the Chaouanons [Shawnees ], a populous but peace-loving 
nation much harassed by roving bands of Iroquois. 

And now, with the hot July sun above them, the explor- 
ers floated onward, past densely wooded shores and broad 
marshes, until they approached on the left a long range 
of lofty bluffs overlooking the riverside. Here they saw 


The Voyage 173 


on the shore some Indians armed with guns; and Joliet 
rightly guessed that they had gotten these in barter with 
the English in Virginia. Marquette offered the feathered 
calumet, and the savages invited them to go on shore. 
They visited the cabins of the red 
men, who made them a feast of 


buffalo meat and bear’s oil and 

ripe plums, in token of their 

good-will and friendship. 
These savages were the 


Chickasaws, whose coun- 
try extended many miles 
along the eastern shore 
of the river. They told 
Marquette that it was 
not more than ten 
days’ journey to the 
sea; and that there 
were white men living 
some distance to the ‘‘They saw Indians armed with guns”’ 
eastward, who © sold 

them guns and knives and beads and glass bottles. Much 
encouraged by what these people told them, the French- 
men again embarked and paddled onward with renewed 
ardor. They soon arrived at the mouth of a large river 
which Joliet called the Bazire, after a friend in Montreal, 
but which we now know as the Arkansas. On the opposite 
bank of the Mississippi stood a village of the tribe called 
Akamsea. Here the voyagers landed, and were led with 
great ceremony into the presence of the chief. Rush 


174 The Hidden River 


mats were spread upon the ground in front of his wigwam, 
and upon these Marquette and Joliet were invited to sit. 
The warriors sat around them in a semicircle, then came 
the elders of the tribe, and behind all stood a wondering 
crowd of women and children. The men were naked, 
but had strings of beads in their ears and noses; the 
women wore the skins of wild animals about their 
persons, and tied their hair in knotted clumps behind 
each ear. 

The chief made a long speech of welcome to the 
strangers; food was brought in on earthen platters, and 
all were regaled on hominy, mush, and roasted dog. All 
day the feast continued; and at night the chief attended 
his visitors to their canoes and danced the calumet dance 
to assure them of his good will. 

It chanced most happily that among the villagers there 
was a young man who had been among the Indians of the 
North, and could speak the language of the Illinois. He 
told Marquette that it would be dangerous to go farther; 
for the tribes along the river had firearms and were of a 
cruel and warlike nature, and would most surely try to do 
them harm. The explorers considered what they should 
do. They were now certain that the river flowed, not to 
the Pacific Ocean, nor yet into the Atlantic by the Vir- 
ginian coast, but into the Gulf of Mexico. They had, 
therefore, solved the great problem of the river’s course. 
By going farther there was much to be risked and little 
to be gained; and if they should perish at the hands of 
the savages or be taken prisoners by the Spanish, all the 
fruits of their discovery would be lost. They therefore 


The Return rs 


resolved to return without unnecessary delay. They had 
reached a point which by Marquette’s observations was in 
latitude 33° 40’ north of the equator. 


IV. THE RETURN 


On the 17th of July, just one month after entering the 
river at the mouth of the Wisconsin, the explorers began 
their long and weary voyage homeward. Day tie 
after day they toiled, paddling against the adverse 
current; night after night they encamped on the oozy 
banks, amid the unhealthful vapors of the bayous and 
marshes. At last they reached the mouth of the Illinois 
River, and were told by the Indians dwelling there that 
by ascending that stream they would find a safe and easy 
passage to the Great Lakes. They therefore turned 
their canoes into it and were delighted with the change. 
The current was not strong, and for sixty-five leagues 
there were neither rapids nor waterfalls. The fertility of 
the country, with its woods and prairies, was a source of 
constant wonder. . 

They stopped for three days in a village of the Illinois, 
where Marquette busied himself in consoling the sick and 
expounding the mysteries of religion. ‘ Had this voyage 
caused but the salvation of a single soul,” he said, “I 
should deem all my fatigue well repaid.” In this village, 
which was called Kaskaskia, there were more than seventy 
lodges, with several fires and families in each; and the 
people were so impressed by the kindness of the missionary 
that they besought him to come back and live with them. 


176 The Hidden River 


This he promised to do; and when he renewed his jour- 
ney one of the chiefs with his young men went a long 
distance with him as guide and protector. 

The party now pushed onward up the ever narrowing 
stream, and at its forks turned to the left into what is now 
known as the Des Plaines River. With the level prairies 
stretching like a green sea on either hand, they continued 
toward the northeast. They passed near the broad knoll 
where in later times was to stand a city named in honor 
of Joliet. They carried their canoes across the short por- 
tage —less than half a league—to the river Chicago, and, 
launching them upon that narrow and sluggish stream, 
paddled tirelessly onward through oozy solitudes never 
before seen by the eyes of civilized man. Soon, to their 
joy, they beheld the great lake of the Illinois | Michigan ], 
its waters sparkling and dancing in the light of the noon- 
day sun. They were at the spot where now are the busy 
wharves and towering warehouses of the second city of 
the American continent; but there was nothing to be seen 
in the desolate prairie land about them to indicate that 
here, in course of time, the hum of busy traffic would 
be heard, and millions of human beings would find their 
homes. 

Once on the waters of the lake, it was easy to find the 
way to Green Bay — “‘the Bay of the Fetid,” as Marquette 
calls it 


and there the two explorers separated. Joliet 
went on by way of Mackinac to the Sault Sainte Marie; 
but Marquette, too feeble to proceed farther, remained 
through the winter with Father Allouez at his mission 
near the head of the bay. 


The Mission of the Ilinots Ly 


Voomenor MISsSloN COR “bite ILLINOIS 


Early in the following year, Joliet, with some Huron 

canoemen, set out for Quebec. On the way he stopped 
for a few days at a new French post called Fort 
Frontenac, near the eastern end of Lake Ontario. 
Then, canoeing down the St. Lawrence, he was almost at 
the end of his long journey when a most serious accident 
occurred. At the foot of Lachine rapids his canoe was over- 
turned, two of his men were drowned, and all his charts 
and papers were lost. It was midsummer when he finally 
arrived at Quebec and related to Count Frontenac the 
history of his explorations. 

In the meanwhile Marquette, in the lonely mission at 
Green Bay, had written the journal of his voyage down the 
Mississippi, and had sent it to the superior of his Order; 
but his feeble health forbade his undertaking any active 
labor. The summer dragged on, and October with its charm- 
ing skies and bracing air gave new life to the invalid. He 
remembered the promise given to the Illinois, that he would 
return to them, and he resolved to set out for their country. 

On the 25th of the month he started, having with him 
two hunters, Pierre and Jacques, and several Indians. 
They embarked on Lake Michigan in ten canoes, and made 
their way slowly along the western shore, hindered much 
by storms, and made wretched by chilling winds and driv- 
ing rains. When, at last, they turned into the mouth of 
the Chicago River, Marquette was too feeble to go farther. 
His Indian escort left him; but Jacques and Pierre staid 
by him and built on the shore a rude hut of sticks and 


OLD NORTHWEST — I2 


178 The Hidden River 


grass—the first human habitation on the site of the 
present city of Chicago. 

Here Marquette spent a long winter in meditation and 
prayer. There was no lack of food, for the prairie and 
marshes were full of wild game; and the two hunters did 
all they could to make everything comfortable. Some 
Indians in the neighborhood came to see the sick man and 
asked him for powder. ‘“ Powder I have not,” answered 
he. ‘I have come to spread peace through the land, 
and I do not wish to see you at war with the Miamis.”’ 

At the approach of spring Marquette’s strength began 
to revive; and, as soon as the ice was melted in the river, 
the party started again on their journey. They followed 
the windings of the narrow Chicago, crossed the portage 
where now flows the great Drainage Canal, and, launching 
their canoes on the then overflowing Des Plaines, soon 
arrived at the village of the Illinois. The savages wel- 
comed the missionary “fas an angel from heaven,”’ for, 
among all the tribes of the West, these seem to have 
been the gentlest and most open-hearted. 

Marquette went from lodge to lodge explaining to old 
and young the mysteries of the Christian faith. On the 
open prairie, not far from where the village of Utica now 
stands, two thousand savages, not counting women and 
children, met together to hear him preach, and many of 
them professed to be converted. But the missionary’s 
strength was unequal to his zeal. He knew that his life 
was fast drawing to a close, and he wished, if possible, to 
die among his own people. The Indians were unwilling 
to part with him; but he promised that he or some other 


The Mission of the Lllinots 179 


of the fathers would return to them, and they bade hima 
tearful farewell. 

Thinking to find a shorter route to Mackinac, Marquette 
and the faithful Jacques and Pierre crossed the head of 
Lake Michigan to some point: near 
the St. Joseph River, and then fol- 
lowed its eastern shore toward the 
north. After some days they came 
to the mouth of a small river, and 
seeing a grassy knoll near one of 
the banks, Marquette told his com- 
panions that there was the place of 
his last repose. They carried him 
ashore, kindled a fire, and built 
over him a rude shelter of green 
branches and strips of bark. When 
they had made him as comfortable 
as they could, they left him at his 
devotions and went a little way into 
the woods. When they returned 


shortly afterward, they found him 


Statue of Marquette 
at Washington 


dead. After shedding many tears 
over his body, they buried it under 
the trees, and then in great sadness continued their voy- 
age to Mackinac. 

A year afterward some Ottawas from the mission of St. 
Ignace visited the spot where Marquette had died. They 
remembered the many kind deeds which the missionary 
had wrought among their own people, and how he had 
given his life for the sake of the red men, With greatest 


180 The Hidden River 


care they opened his grave, they took up his bones, and 
laid them in a case of birch bark which they had prepared. 
Then, at the head of a long procession of canoes, they car- 
ried the remains to Mackinac. There, beneath the little 
chapel of the mission of St. Ignace, they buried all that 
was left to them of the gentle, the accomplished, the self- 
sacrificing Marquette. 

Two hundred years later, beneath the spot where the 
chapel is supposed to have stood, a search was made, and 
a few fragments of a skeleton were found. Whether these 
were really the remains of the sainted missionary, no one 
can ever know; but they were gathered together with 
care, and with much reverence were reburied. 


FROM CATARAQUI TO CREVECGEUR 
I. CATARAQUI 


OU remember how Louis Joliet in 1669 discovered 
the water way between Lake Huron and Lake 
Erie, and made known a new ‘route to the distant West 
by way of the upper St. Lawrence and the lower lakes. 
Count Frontenac, the new governor of Canada, was quick 
to see the advantages of this route and the wonder- 
ful possibilities which it offered for trade and explora- 
tion. As a first step toward opening it and providing 
for its security, he decided to build a fort at some con- 
venient spot on the shore of Lake Ontario. Such a fort, 
well manned, would help to overawe the Iroquois, who, 
although then at peace with the French, patrolled the 
country south of the lakes and made perilous the portage 
around Niagara. It would serve also as a frontier trading 
post to which the red men of the Northwest would bring 
their furs, instead of carrying them to the English who had 
lately established themselves in New York. 

At the very time that Joliet and Marquette were mak- 
ing their memorable voyage down the Mississippi, Fron- 
tenac, with a flotilla of two flatboats and a hundred and 
twenty canoes, was slowly ascending the St. Law- ides 
rence. Early in July the flotilla sailed through 
the labyrinth of the Thousand Islands; and on the 12th 

181 


182 From Cataraqui to Créveceur 


of the month the governor and his followers and assistants 
landed with great pomp and ceremony at the place which 
had been selected for the fort. It was near the outlet of 
the lake, on the site of the present city of Kingston. The 
spot was known to the Indians as Cataraqui. 

Many workmen were soon busy, felling trees, hewing 
logs, and digging intrenchments, and within a surprisingly 
short time the fort was ready for occupancy. 

Encamped by the edge of the forest were numbers of 
Indians, chiefs and warriors of the five nations of the 
Iroquois, who had gathered there to see what ‘ Onontio,”’ 
as they called the governor of Canada, was about to do. 
With these Count Frontenac called a council. After the 
pipes had been smoked in silence and the stern-faced 
chiefs had pondered long on the business that had brought 
them together, the governor arose and spoke to them. 
“Children,” he said, “I am glad to see you here, where 
I have lighted a fire for you to smoke by, and for me 
to talk to you.” And then while reminding them of his 
power to punish them for any misconduct, he told of the 
great good will which he felt toward them, and said that 
he would build at Cataraqui a storehouse where they could 
barter their furs for every kind of goods they needed. 
He warned them to beware of acting rashly, and advised 
them to listen only to the counsels of “men of character 
like the Sieur de la Salle.” 

This speech had a great weight with the dusky braves 
who listened to it, and through them it had an effect 
upon the whole Iroquois nation. They saw that the new 
governor was a man of determined character and large 


Cataraqui 183 


resources, and that it would be dangerous to offend him. 
While they feared his enmity, they respected his courage ; 
and they felt themselves to be indeed only children in the 
presence of a stern and judicious father. The result was 
that for several years the Iroquois ceased to molest the 
French, and the savage prowess of their young warriors 
found vent in long and bloody raids upon the scattered 
Indian tribes who occupied the forest region between the 
river Ohio and the Great Lakes. 

As soon as the palisades and intrenchments were 
finished, the governor returned to Montreal, leaving at 
Cataraqui as many as were necessary to hold the. place. 
In the following July, as we have already learned, Louis 
Joliet, on his way home from the discovery of the Missis- 
sippi, stopped a few days at the new fort. There, if we 
may credit reports, he met the governor’s most 
trusted friend, Robert Cavelier de la Salle, and to 
him he gave a glowing account of what he had seen in the 
distant West— of the lakes, the rivers, the forests, the 
prairies, and the boundless resources of the region which 
he, with Father Marquette, had been the first to traverse. 
We know that it had been one of La Salle’s dreams to 
discover a water way across the continent to the Pacific. 
Joliet’s narrative showed him that some of his theories 
were false, and that the Mississippi must find its outlet, 
not into the South Sea, as he had imagined, but into the 
Gulf of Mexico. In such case, what might not be gained 
by bringing all that part of the continent under French 
control, and establishing a monopoly of trade in the 
valley of the newly discovered river? 


1674 


184 From Cataraqui to Créveceur 


II. FORT FRONTENAC 


La Salle was above all a man of action, and before the 
end of autumn he was on shipboard, bound for France, to 
ror lay his plans before the king. In his pocket he 

carried a letter from Count Frontenac, saying 
that the bearer was a man of intelligence and ability, and 
“more capable than any one else to accomplish any kind 
of enterprise.” 

The letter-must have had the desired effect, for ‘the 
king listened to the young man with marked interest and 
granted all that he asked. He made him owner and gov- 
ernor of the seignory of Cataraqui, which included both 
the new fort and the adjacent lands with a water front of 
twelve miles; he granted him the exclusive right to much 
of the fur trade in the West — enough to insure him great 
wealth; and he raised him to the rank of a nobleman of 
France. Noman could have asked for more; and when 
La Salle returned, the next summer, to Canada, his heart 
was full of hopes for the future. 

In his wilderness home at Cataraqui he was now lord of 
all he surveyed. Around the fort — which he named Fort 
1675 Frontenac —he built stone walls to take the place 
of the wooden palisades. Inside, he erected a 
blacksmith’s shop, a mill, and roomy barracks for the 
soldiers. He placed nine small cannon on the walls, and 
put the place in good shape to resist any attack. He 
founded near at hand a village of French families who 
cleared a hundred acres of land and planted it in grain. 
He brought a number of cattle from Montreal, to be 


Fort Frontenac 185 


pastured upon the meadow lands of Cataraqui. He 
began the building of some small vessels to be used in 
carrying on trade with the natives on the farther shore 
of the lake. In these and in many other ways he proved 
himself worthy of the high commendation he had carried 
to the king. 

But, with all his apparent prosperity, he had many ene- 
mies and their number was increasing every day. He wds 
a silent man, slow to confide in others, and never asking 
their advice. Men said that he was haughty and over- 
bearing, and this may have been true. The merchants of 
Montreal hated him, because he had taken from them a 
part of their trade in furs; the Jesuits regarded him with 
suspicion, because he was the governor’s friend and the 
governor was their enemy; the Sulpicians were bitter 
against him, because he did not exert himself to forward 
their interests; men who had once been his friends were 
now arrayed against him, because they were jealous of his 
prosperity. Nevertheless, he changed none of his plans, 
but held firmly to the purpose which he had long had in 
mind. Fort Frontenac and the lordly estate of Cataraqui 
were but steps to far greater things. 

In the meanwhile, La Salle was gathering from Indians 
and woods rangers and fur traders all the information that 
could be obtained about the country south of the Great 
Lakes. He wished particularly to find the easiest and 
shortest route from Canada to the Mississippi. 

If you will look at any good map of that region you will 
see that there are many places where tributaries of the 
great rivers approach very close to tributaries of the lakes. 


186 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


From Joliet, La Salle had heard of the portage between 
the Fox River and the Wisconsin, and also of that of Chi- 
cago. From other sources, he had learned that the In- 
dians of the Southwest often brought their canoes to Lake 
Erie by way of the Wabash and the Maumee. He had 
been told also that near the southwest corner of Lake 
Michigan there is a river called the St. Joseph which at 
one place bends southward and almost touches a small 
tributary of the Mississippi. It was a part of La Salle’s 
plan to open, by way of one of these four portages, a safe 
route to the Mississippi Valley, and thus extend his trade 
and the power of France through all that unexplored 
region. 

Having matured his plans, he again sailed for France. 
ae He carried with him a memorial to be presented 
to the king’s prime minister, in which, while out- 
lining his projects, he gave a glowing description of the 
country northwest of the Ohio. 

“Tt is nearly all so beautiful and fertile,’ he said; ‘‘so 
free from forests, and so full of meadows, brooks, and 
rivers; so abounding in fish, game, and venison, —that one 
can find there, in plenty and with little trouble, all that 
is needful for the support of flourishing colonies. The 
soil will produce everything that is raised in France. 
Flocks and herds can be left out at pasture all winter; 
and there are even native wild cattle which, instead of 
hair, have a fine wool that may answer for making cloth 
and hats.” 

He explained still further that a large and profitable 
trade in skins and buffalo wool might at once be estab- 


Niagara 187 


lished in that region. And he suggested that, if a way 
could be opened to the mouth of the Mississippi, the 
greater part of this traffic might be carried on directly 
by ships from France instead of passing through Canada. 

King Louis XIV. and his ministers were so impressed 
by these things that they granted to La Salle most of the 
privileges he desired. They confirmed his title to Fort 
Frontenac, and gave him the exclusive right to build forts 
in the country south of the Lakes, and to trade in the furs 
and other products of the Mississippi valley. 


IiI. NIAGARA 


Late in the following summer, La Salle returned to 
Canada. He brought with him a number of shipwrights 
and mechanics, and also sails, cordage, and an- 1678 
chors for a vessel which he proposed to build 
and launch on Lake Erie. With him came Henri Tonty, 
an Italian officer, who had become deeply interested in his 
plans and whom he had enlisted in his service. This man, 
as we shall see, proved to be his most faithful friend and 
helper in all his undertakings. 

At Fort Frontenac was another man who was to take a 
prominent part in the proposed exploration of the West. 
This man was Louis Hennepin, a Recollet friar who had 
come over from France three years before. He was of 
a restless, roving disposition, and by nature better fitted 
to be a coureur de bois than a priest. Since coming to 
Canada he had spent the most of his time at Fort Fron- 
tenac, where he busied himself building a chapel, preach- 


188 From Cataraquit to Créyveceur 


ing to the Indian bands who had settled there, and 
enjoying the companionship of the soldiers. He also 
made long excursions into the Iroquois country, learned 
the Mohawk and the Algonquin languages, became expert 
in woodcraft, and inured himself to all the hardships of 
the forest. Upon La Salle’s return from France, this 
erratic priest entered most heartily into his plans and 
offered to give him all the aid in his power. 

In November everything was in readiness for the de- 
parture of La Salle’s expedition. Sixteen men, under 
1678 command of La Motte de Lussiere, and accom- 

panied by Father Hennepin, embarked in a small 
vessel which was expected to proceed directly to the 
mouth of the Niagara River. La Salle and Tonty, with 
the remainder of the company, sailed in another vessel for 
the same point; but, instead of going straight across the 
lake, they coasted along the south shore in order to visit 
some villages of the Iroquois and make sure of the friend- 
ship of those jealous lords of the forest. 

In due time all arrived in safety, although not without 
peril and serious mishap, at the mouth of the Niagara. A 
palisaded house was built a little below the point where 
the present town of Lewiston stands, and in it a part of 
the supplies for the expedition were stored. Some of the 
materials for shipbuilding, brought from France, had been 
lost in the rough weather which had made the last days 
of the voyage so perilous; but the anchors and cables and 
most of the tools had been saved, and these were now 
landed. 


A party of scouts with Father Hennepin were sent in 


Niagara 189 


advance up the right bank of the river to find the easiest 
road around the falls, learn what obstacles must be over- 
come, and report whether it would be at all possible to 
carry tools and supplies up the toilsome way to the higher 
levels of the stream. It is impossible for us to imagine 
the feelings of these men as they approached the great 
cataract and the tremendous flood of waters burst upon 
their view. For sixty years these falls had been known to 
the French through hearsay from wandering Indians. It 
is not unlikely that more than one ranger of the woods, 
some Brulé or Nicolet, possibly La Salle himself, had vis- 
ited the spot and gazed with rapt wonder upon the rushing, 
mighty waters. But they left no record behind them, and 
hence, so far as we know, the priest Hennepin and his 
companions were the real discoverers of Niagara. For, 
indeed, who shall be honored as the discoverer of any 
hitherto unknown thing if not the man who, from per- 
sonal observation, first tells the world of its existence and 
appearance? 

From the top of the cliff where tourists now stand to 
observe the Horseshoe Fall, Father Hennepin viewed 
the cataract with the enthusiasm which marked all his 
conduct. He drew a picture of the scene as it appeared 
to him—the first picture of the falls ever published, per- 
haps the first ever drawn. He afterwards described them 
as ‘‘a vast cadence of water, of which the Universe does 
not afford its parallel.’ “The waters, falling from a 
height of five hundred feet,’ he says, “do foam and boil 
after the most hideous manner imaginable, making outra- 
geous noise more terrible than that of thunder; for when 


190 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


the wind blows out of the south, their dismal roaring may 
be heard more than fifteen leagues distant.” 

In the meanwhile much dissatisfaction was breeding at 
the little fort at the mouth of the river. Many of the 
men, disheartened because of the difficulties to be over- 
come, were ready to give up the enterprise before it 
had been fairly begun; and some, being in the pay of 
La Salle’s enemies at Montreal, were on the point of open 
mutiny. The captain, La Motte de Lussiere, was himself 
suspected of doing what he could to increase this ill 
feeling, and he was permitted to return to Fort Fronte- 
nac. In the end the strong will of the commander pre- 
vailed, and arrangements for building a ship above the falls 
were soon completed. La Salle and Tonty went forward 
to find a suitable place for the work. They selected a 
little cove about six miles above the falls, where the stream 
now called Cayuga Creek flows into the Niagara. To this 

spot, late in January, the men began to carry the 

tools, the cordage, and the anchors. It was no 
easy matter to lift their heavy burdens up the steep cliffs, 
to the plateau above, and to carry them nearly twenty 
miles over the rough, unbroken country; but, wading 
through snow and slush, all struggled bravely forward and 
in time reached the appointed place. Father Hennepin, 
rugged and strong, carried an altar strapped upon his 
back, and cheered the lagging ones by his enthusiasm. 

As soon as the materials for the ship were on the 
ground, La Salle put Tonty in charge of the work and 
hastened back to the mouth of the Niagara, where he 
began the construction of a blockhouse to serve as a base 


Niagara IQI 


of supplies for the expedition. But when the spring 
thaws had begun and the ice had disappeared, he left 
this post in charge of a few trusted men, and returned, on 
foot, along the north shore of Lake Ontario, to Fort Fronte- 
nac and his estate of Cataraqui. It was high time that 
he was there; for his enemies were slandering him, his 
creditors were seizing upon his goods, and everything was 
in a state of confusion. 

On the Niagara, however, Tonty was pushing forward 
the work on the ship. 
irees=werer cut dawn fa 
forge was built; the me- 
chanics from France were 
busy hewing, planing, and 
fitting the framework of 
the vessel. There were no 
idlers at Cayuga Creek, 
save some straggling Iro- 


quois, who loitered around 


the camp and threatened The ee 
all kinds of mischief to 

the workers. They were angry at this invasion of their 
country, and declared that they would burn the ship as 
soon as she was finished. 

Early in May the vessel was ready to be launched. 
She was a bark of sixty tons, and well built in every part. 
Her sides were pierced with five portholes, from each of 
which a small cannon peeped forth. Upon her prow the 
workmen had carved the figure of a griffin supporting 
the arms of Count Frontenac; and for this reason she 


192 From Cataraqui to Créveceur 


was called the Griffon. As she slid into the water, Father 
Hennepin pronounced a blessing upon her, the workmen 
and crew sang the 7¢ Deum, the cannon were fired, and the 
visiting Indians howled in chorus. She was then towed 
out into the stream and anchored where the treacherous 
_ Iroquois could do her no harm. 


Vict HE GAL. 


Nearly three months passed before La Salle returned 
from Fort Frontenac. Tonty and a few trusted boatmen 
embarked in canoes, intending to paddle along 
the northern shore of Lake Erie to some point 
near the mouth of the Detroit, where it was expected that 
the Griffon would overtake them. The rest of the men 
waited impatiently for the arrival of their leader. Early 
in August he came, bringing with him two more priests, 
Zenobe Membré and Gabriel Ribourde, Récollet brothers 
who desired to carry the faith to the savages of the far 
West. On the 7th of the month all was in readiness, and 
the Griffon, first of ships to sail on the Great Lakes, was 
loosed from her anchorage. She was towed with ropes to 
a point near the outlet of Lake Erie; then the sails were 
spread, and the voyage was begun. 

Three days later the stanch little vessel entered the 
Detroit, and there Tonty and his men were taken on 
board. The winds were favorable, and in a short time the 
voyagers were gladdened at beholding and entering the 
sea-like expanse of Lake Huron. Keeping within sight 
of the Michigan shore, they held steadily on their way 


The Griffon 193 


northward. But now a storm arose; the wind blew a 
hurricane; the waves seemed mountain high; the timbers 
of the little bark creaked and groaned; and the crew 
feared every moment that she would go to pieces. At 
length, however, they 
outrode the storm ; and, 
passing the cliffs of 
Mackinac Island, they 
beheld the point of St. 
Ignace and the _ vil- 
lage of Mackinac close 
at hand. The Gvzffon 
rounded to in front of 
the mission; the five 


cannon were fired off 
by way of salute, and 
soon a hundred canoes 
filled with wondering 
savages were swarm- 
ing around the vessel. 


La Salle, clad in a gor- = 
geous robe of scarlet ‘La Salle was the first to land” 
and gold, was the first . 
to land. Then, with his men, the friars and soldiers and 
sailors and traders, he entered the bark chapel and heard 
the priests of the mission say mass. | 

After resting a few days at Mackinac, the company 
again embarked, and the Grzffon sailed onward, skirting 
the northern shore of Lake Michigan, and at length arriv- 
ing without mishap at the head of Green Bay, still called 


OLD NORTHWEST — 13 


194 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


by the French the Bay of the Fetid. They cast anchor 
near the mouth of Fox River, and for a short time were 
the guests of the priests who had succeeded Father Allouez 
in the mission of St. Francis Xavier. La Salle was 
pleased to find at this place several traders whom he had 
sent on before him to buy furs and have them in readiness 
for the coming of the ship. By the commission which he 
held from the king he was expressly forbidden to trade 
with the Indians of this region, for this right belonged to 
the licensed merchants of Montreal and a fur-trading asso- 
ciation known as the Company of Canada. But when he 
saw the pelts and rich furs which his traders had gathered 
there, he was willing enough to take them; and he decided 
to load them upon the Griffon and send her back to 
Niagara, whence her cargo could be carried to Fort Fron- 
tenac and afterward shipped to France. 

This first shipload of furs, so quickly although illegally 
obtained, would prove to the king that La Salle had not 
overrated the wealth of the great Northwest. But what 
of the traders of Montreal whose rights he had invaded ? 
They were already his enemies, and now they would be 
ten times more bitter against him. 

It was about the middle of September when the Gvzffon, 
loaded with a great store of furs, started on her home- 
ae ward voyage. She had on board a pilot and six 

other men, and the furs and skins that she 
carried were worth a handsome fortune. She was scarcely 
well out upon Lake Michigan when a strong gale sprang 
up, lashed the waters into fury, and then suddenly died 
away. Whether the Gvzffox foundered in that gale, 


The St. Joseph 195 


or whether she rode safely through it, nobody knows. 
Some said that while she was making her slow way 
along the coast, unfriendly savages waylaid her in their 
canoes, murdered her crew, and sunk her in the lake. 
Others said that the crew themselves ran her ashore in 
order to steal her precious cargo —and this last tale was 
believed by La Salle to be the true one. All that we know 
to a certainty is that the vessel never returned to Niagara, 
and was never again heard of. 


Veet Doo OSE RE 


On the day after the sailing of the Grzffon, La Salle, 
with fourteen men and four canoes, started to cruise south- 
ward along the west shore of Lake Michigan. . Tonty, with 
another party, was sent across the lake to explore the east 
shore. He was to meet 
La Salle at the mouth 
of the St. Joseph River. 

And now many perils 
beset the voyagers. 
There were storms al- 
most every day, and 
La Salle’s party was 
often obliged to find 
refuge in some shel- 


fereda cove, or: -mict: 

Their progress was very slow. Food was hard to find, 
and they were more than once on the point of starvation. 
On some days they had nothing to eat but a handful of 


196 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


corn; and once they were glad to feast on the carcass of 
a deer which the buzzards had begun to devour. They 
passed several Indian villages, and in some of them were 
entertained with kindness and supplied with food. Near 
the southern end of the lake they met a band of warriors 
who threatened to attack them; but a parley was called, 
and after La Salle had explained that his errand was a 
peaceful one, the savages laid down their arms and offered 
to help the strangers on their way. 

On the first day of November La Salle and his party 
arrived at the mouth of the St. Joseph But Tonty had 
not come; and so, while waiting for him, the men busied 

themselves chopping down trees and building a 

O79 fort, which they surrounded with palisades. 
Three weeks were spent at this task before Tonty and 
his men made their appearance; and it was not until the 
3d of December that the party was ready to leave Fort 
Miamis—as the place was named—and renew the 
journey. 

Ten men remained at the fort to wait for the Griffon, 
which had been ordered to sail there on her return from 
Niagara. La Salle and the remaining thirty-three em- 
barked in eight canoes upon the St. Joseph. The river 
was already beginning to show signs of ice upon its sur- 
face, and the meadows and woods had put on the dreary, 
brown vesture of winter. The party paddled briskly 
up the stream, helped along by the sharp northwest 
wind which blew steadily their way, and, while chilling 
them to the bone, lessened their labor and increased their 
speed. 


Lhe Kankakee 197 


VI. THE KANKAKEE 


At length, near the place where now stands the city of 
South Bend, their guides found the portage of which La 
Salle had been informed. Carrying their canoes, with 
their arms and tools and a blacksmith’s forge and mer- 
chandise for trading with the Indians, they painfully made 
their way over half-frozen marshes to the Kankakee River, 
five miles south. Then, embarking on this sluggish tribu- 
tary of the Illinois, they followed its westward course 
through dismal swamps and thickets of underbrush where 
often the stream was scarcely wide enough to permit two 
canoes to float abreast. | 

Presently the scene changed, and they emerged into 
the open prairie, now brown and sere and desolate. The 
whole country seemed like a barren desert. No game 
was to be found, and the men began to suffer from hun- 
ger. One day, to their great joy, they came upon a buf- 
falo stuck fast in the oozy ground near the river. He was 
so large that after they had killed him it took twelve men 
to haul him out of the mud; but they loaded a canoe with 
the carcass, and for many days thereafter they feasted on 
steaks and chops to their hearts’ content. 

By and by they emerged from the Kankakee into the 
Illinois, a pleasant river flowing through a broad valley 
bordered on one side by low grass-covered hills. Soon 
the stream widened, and the canoes glided among small 
islands, and between shores lined with groves of slender 
trees and dense underwoods. Presently, on their left, 
they passed the ribbed precipice, afterward known as the 


198 From Cataraqui to Créveceur 


Great Rock, and still later as Starved Rock, the tree-clad 
summit of which jutted over the water’s edge. 

Only a short distance below this place, the voyagers 
saw an Indian village close by the shore. It was a vil- 
lage of Ottawas, and contained four hundred wigwams ; 
but the people had gone away on their winter hunt, and 
every wigwam was empty. Searching through the vil- 
lage some of the men found a store of corn which the 
Indians had hidden in pits, and of this they took about 
fifty bushels, promising themselves to pay the owners 
in case they should ever meet them. 


VII. CREVECGUR 


It was near the lower end of that expansion of the 
river, now known as Peoria Lake, that the first Indians 
were met. At sight of the long line of canoes approach- 
ing their village the savages were much alarmed. The 
warriors snatched their weapons and ran yelling to the 
water’s edge; the squaws screamed with terror; and 
the children hid themselves in the huts. For a few 
moments there was general confusion, and the savages 
made as though they would attack the canoes. But 
La Salle, unarmed, boldly landed; and the chiefs, see- 
ing that he meant no harm, went to meet him, bearing 
the calumet, or pipe of peace. 

Soon the alarm was at anend. Presents of tobacco and 
hatchets were given to the Indians, and Father Hennepin 
busied himself making friends with the children. Food 
was placed before the strangers, and the savages rendered 


Créveceur 199 


them honor by rubbing their feet with bear’s grease. A 
council was called, and after the peace pipe had been 
smoked, La Salle explained to the assembled warriors 
that he had come into their country to open a way for 
traders who would bring them many things that they 
desired. And he promised that, if they would allow him 
to build a fort in their country, he would protect them 
from the Iroquois, who were beginning to send their 
dreaded war parties into that distant region. The sav- 
ages listened with attention and then agreed to do all 
that he wished. They told him that they were Illinois 
and loved peace, that although they were content with 
the few necessaries which they already possessed, still, if 
the traders should come among them they would be 
welcome. 

But, notwithstanding his seeming good fortune, La 
Salle began to feel that much trouble was ahead. He 
fancied that the Indians were not sincere in their prom- 
ises, and he believed that his enemies had sent agents 
among them to poison their minds against him. Two 
of his best mechanics deserted him, and some others 
who could be easier spared were missing. The chief of 
the village advised him not to venture upon the Missis- 
sippi. Its shores, he said, were infested by dreadful 
monsters, while the river itself was full of dangerous 
whirlpools which would surely swallow up his canoes. 
La Salle thanked him for his kind advice, but gave him 
to understand that no dangers, however great, would pre- 
vent him from carrying out his plans. The mechanics 
and canoemen, however, who listened to the old chief’s 


200 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


warnings, were very much disturbed, and some of them 
flatly refused to go farther. 

Seeing that he could not prevail upon these mutinous 
fellows and that it would be folly to go forward without 
them, La Salle decided to build a fort near by, and to 
remain there until the coming of spring, when the voyage 
would be attended with fewer risks and discomforts. 


‘La Salle named the fort Crévecceur ”’ 


On the east side of the river, some distance from the 
Indian village, there was a high knoll with marshy 
ravines on both sides, and this he chose as a suitable 
spot. A deep ditch was dug around the farther side of 
the knoll, so as to connect the two ravines. Earthworks 
were then thrown up, the sides of which sloped directly 
down to the inner edge of the ditch and the marshes. 
Inside of the earthworks, palisades twenty-five feet high 


Créveceur 201 


were planted so as to inclose a large rectangular space. 
At two of the corners of this space log huts were built 
for the men to lodge in; at a third corner was a small 
house for Father Hennepin and the two other priests that 
were with him; and at the fourth was a shop where the 
forge was set up and the tools kept. In the center stood 
the tents of La Salle and Tonty. 

La Salle named the fort Crévecceur — heartbreak. 
Whether he did this because of his many disappoint- 
ments and his failure at this time to reach the Mississippi 
no one can tell. More likely, however, he called it so in 
memory of an ancient French fortress of the same name 
in which his family had an interest. It was now yeaa 
midwinter, and while waiting for the coming of 
milder weather, La Salle laid the keel of a vessel in 
which he meant to sail down the Mississippi. It was forty- 
two feet long with a beam breadth of twelve feet, and the 
deck was surrounded with high bulwarks as a protection 
against hostile Indians. 

The winter passed, but to La Salle at his lonely fort 
on the Illinois no news came from the lakes or from 
the more distant St. Lawrence. What had been the 
fate of the men left behind at Fort Miamis? Had the 
Griffon made a successful voyage to Niagara, and had 
she returned to Lake Michigan with supplies and reén- 
forcements as had been directed? To solve these ques- 
tions and to bring to Fort Crevecceur more men and the 
necessary equipments for his new vessel, La Salle decided 
to return to the lakes. The fort was already completed, 
and the little ship was well begun. Tonty would remain 


202 From Cataraqut to Créveceur 


in command of the post, while others of his most trusted 
companions would explore the Illinois River to its mouth 
and prepare the way for the expedition down the Missis- 
sippi. For this latter undertaking three men were chosen: 
Michel Accault, a brave and faithful woods ranger, skilled 
in all the lore of savage life, Father Hennepin, and a 
hunter known as Le Picard du Gay. 

Father Hennepin had no great desire to leave his com- 
fortable quarters at Fort Crévecceur and brave the uncer- 
tain dangers of the wilderness. But La Salle urged him 
to go, and his brother priests encouraged him by telling 
him that if he died on the way he would find his sure 
reward in heaven. ‘True, my son,” said the aged Father 
Ribourde, ‘you will have many monsters to overcome, 
and precipices to pass, in this enterprise which requires 
the strength of the most robust; you do not know a word 
of the language of the tribes whom you are going to try 
to win for God —but take courage, you will gain as many 
victories as you have combats.” Thus encouraged, the 
reluctant friar at last consented to go. 

“Anybody but me,” he afterwards wrote, ‘would have 
been very much frightened at the dangers of such a jour- 
ney; and, in fact, if I had not placed all my trust in God, 
I should not have been the dupe of the Sieur de la Salle, 
who exposed my life so rashly.” 

On the last day of February the three explorers, 
Accault, Hennepin, and Du Gay, began their adventurous 
voyage. Their canoe contained a quantity of 
tobacco, cloth, knives, and trinkets, to be given 
to the Indians whom they should meet; and with Du Gay 


1680 


Créveceur 203 


at the stern paddle it glided rapidly down the now swollen 
stream. 

On the very next day, La Salle himself, with four 
Frenchmen and an Indian, also departed from Fort 
Crévecoceur; but his canoe was turned upstream and his 
destination was the lower lakes and Fort Frontenac. 
Toiling slowly against the current, it was not until sev- 
eral days later that he passed under the shadow of that 
remarkable cliff, the Great Rock. As he looked up at 
its steep sides of yellow sandstone, he observed how 
easily it might be fortified and defended against any 
enemy. During the rest of his journey the thought of 
this natural stronghold often came into his mind; and 
when he reached Fort Miamis he sent back a messen- 
ger with a letter to Tonty, bidding him, in case of. need, 
to abandon Crévecceur and take refuge on the rock. 


PS OOP AON cd aA DASE TY Bie ory ed Saf 
I. ACCAULT AND HENNEPIN 


HILE La Salle is returning to Fort Frontenac, let 

us follow Michel Accault and Father Hennepin 

on their adventurous tour into unknown wilds. We have 

es only Hennepin’s journal to tell us of their wan- 

derings; and it is so full of falsehoods that we 

cannot always sift out the truth. He makes it appear 

that he, and not Accault, was the leader of the party ; and 

he claims for himself the honor of all the discoveries 

that were made. And yet he should not be judged too 

harshly; for he gave to the world the first account of 

the upper Mississippi, of which he was in truth the 
discoverer. 

The explorers floated down the Illinois without meeting 
with any adventure, and on one of the first days in March 
their canoe shot out into the broad current of the Missis- 
sippi. What now should they do? Should they return to 
Fort Crevecceur and report no new lands discovered, no 
savages converted? Or should they push boldly onward 
and seek adventures in regions more remote? Why not 
turn their canoe downstream and follow the river’s course 
to the great Gulf —thus forestalling the enterprise which 
La Salle was planning to accomplish? Father Hennepin 
afterwards claimed that this was what they actually did, 


204 


The Stoux 205 


but this part of his story is so improbable and so full of 
contradictions that nobody believes a word of it. 

La Salle had directed Accault to explore the upper 
course of the river and, if possible, follow it to its hid- 
den source; and it was therefore to this enterprise that 
the party really addressed 
themselves. They turned 
their canoe to the right, and 
began a toilsome voyage up 
the Mississippi. 

The air was raw and 
damp, and the river was 
full of ice; but spring had 


already opened, and the 
woods and prairies were never mere ceen) 
beginning to put on their 

livery of green. Keeping quite near to the leeward shore, 
they avoided both the ice and the swifter current. They 
killed more game than they needed — deer, wild turkeys, 
and now and then a bison or a bear. Along the woodland 
streams many beavers were seen. Fish, too, were abundant 
and easily taken. Every morning and night the friar said 
prayers, not omitting the angelus at noon; and each day 
he besought St. Anthony of Padua to protect them from 
harm. 


Tee Hie StOWUX 


Full of enthusiasm and buoyed with high hopes, the 
explorers held bravely on their way; and, as no serious 
mishap befell them, they began to feel careless of danger. 


200 The Upper’ Mississippt 


They passed the mouth of the Wisconsin, and on the 11th 
of April landed near the place where the city of Lacrosse 
now stands. Here, while cooking a turkey for dinner, 
they were surprised by a war party of Sioux who came 
sweeping down the river in thirty-three bark canoes. The 
naked savages, of whom there were more than a hundred, 
leaped on shore, and with hideous yells surrounded the 
astonished voyagers. It was their intention rather to 
frighten than to injure, but they soon learned that the 
three explorers were not so easily terrified. Hennepin 
held out the calumet, and one of the savages snatched 
it away. He offered them -some tobacco, “better for 


) 


smoking than theirs,” and they received it with pleasure. 
They then gave him to understand that they were on 
their way to fight the Miamis; and when the friar, by 
the aid of signs, explained that the Miamis had fled to 
the eastward and were beyond their reach, the chiefs 
laid their hands on his head and set up a dismal wailing. 

The savages would not smoke the peace pipe with 
the Frenchmen, but held them as captives. In a short 
time the whole flotilla started up the Mississippi, strug- 
eling hard against the current and making but slow 
progress. Several Indians took their places in the French- 
men’s canoe and helped with the paddling. At night they 
camped on the banks. When the weather was fair they 
slept on the bare ground; but when it rained they built 
little huts of bark and green branches. Every morning at 
daybreak an old man shouted aloud the signal for depar- 
ture; and then the warriors leaped into their canoes and 
plied their paddles against the current, sometimes without 


The Sioux 207 


having tasted of breakfast. At one time a bear was killed, 
and the whole party stopped to dance the medicine dance 
and have a great feast. Sometimes thcy landed for a 
buffalo hunt on the neighboring prairies. There was 


‘‘The whole party stopped to dance the medicine dance’”’ 


plenty of meat, and both the Indians and their captives 
fared sumptuously. 

On the nineteenth day after the capture of the French- 
men, the party came to the expansion of the river a short 
distance below the spot where now stands the city of St. 
Paul. There the Indians hid their canoes in a thicket of 


208 The Upper Mississippt 


alder bushes near the shore. They then divided the goods 
of the Frenchmen among themselves and broke Hennepin’s 
canoe in pieces. 

All then started across the country on foot, steering 
their way directly towards the homes of the Sioux. The 
Indians, being tall and active, walked with great speed, 
and it was with much difficulty that the friar and his com- 
panions could keep up with them. Their course was 
nearly due north. 

Ice still lingered on the ponds and marshes, and Henne- 
pin almost perished with cold while wading and swim- 
ming the many streams that crossed their path. Accault 
and Du Gay, being small men, fared better than the tall 
friar, for the Indians carried them on their backs across the 
deepest water ways. Sometimes when Hennepin, from 
sheer weariness, lagged in the march, his captors set fire to 
the grass behind him, and then, seizing him by the hands, 
ran forward to escape the flames, dragging him after them. 

On the fifth day of this painful journey the party reached 
a village of bark huts near a lake, probably the same water 
now known as Mille Lacs. Here the captive explorers 
found some sort of release from their troubles. The 
shrewd Indians had already had some profitable dealings 
with the French traders on Lake Superior, and they had 
no intention of harming their prisoners. Savage and 
warlike though they were, these terrors of the distant 
West seldom practised the dreadful cruelties that were 
so common with the Iroquois. For the present it was 
their policy to cultivate the friendship of the white 
strangers who had so lately become their neighbors. 


The Captives 209 


Rie Drie CAI IssS 


An agreement was soon made concerning the captives. 
Hennepin was assigned to an old chief who had formerly 
treated him very harshly, but who now adopted one 
him as his son. Accault and Du Gay were 
given to other chiefs, and the three explorers were obliged 
to part. The friar was forced to follow his adoptive father 
several miles through woods and marshes to another small 
lake, which Hennepin called Lake Buade, and which he 
said was about seventy leagues west of Lake Superior. 
There some canoes were waiting, and the party was ferried 
to an island where the chief had his home. 

At the door of the wigwam an old Indian, withered with 
age, welcomed the captive priest and offered him/a peace 
pipe. He then led him to the fire, and, having placed him 
on a bearskin that was spread before it, he rubbed his legs 
and feet with the fat of a wild-cat. His new father soon 
afterward introduced him to six or seven of his wives, and 
told him that he was to regard them as his mothers. He 
then gave him a platter of broiled fish, and covered him 
with a robe made of ten beaver skins, embroidered with 
porcupine quills. 

Seeing that Hennepin was too weak to rise from the 
ground without help, his father made a sweating bath for 

him. Four Indians led him naked to a small hut covered 
with buffalo skins, and, when they had entered, every 
crack or opening in the walls was tightly closed. Red- 
hot stones were lying on the ground, and upon these 
water was poured until the place was filled with steam. 


OLD NORTHWEST — 14 


210 The Upper Mississippi 


The Indians then began to sing “in a thundering voice,” 
and all laid hands on the poor friar and rubbed him 
unmercifully, ‘‘ while they wept bitterly.” He was obliged 
to submit to this heroic treatment three times a week, until 
he felt as strong as ever. 

About the middle of summer the Indians started 
southward on a great buffalo hunt. There were more than 
two hundred warriors in the party, besides all their women 


‘‘ Waited in vain for some one to invite him to go along” 


and children. Father Hennepin saw them embark on the 
Rum River —or St. Francis, as he called it—and waited 
in vain for some one to invite him to go along. 

To his great disappointment, however, there seemed to 
be no room for him in any of the crowded canoes, and 
he became alarmed lest he should be left behind alone 
in the deserted village. He stood on the bank and hailed 


The Captives OTT 


the passing vessels as they glided swiftly down the stream, 
but none of the Indians listened to him. Soon Accault 
and Du Gay came past in a small canoe which they had 
borrowed, and he called to them. But Accault, who hated 
him because of his boastful and overbearing manner, 
answered, ‘‘We have already paddled too long for you!” 
and they left him. 

At last two Indians consented to take him on condition 
that he would bail the water out of their canoe; and, as it 
was quite full of little holes, he had quite enough to do. 

Four days after their departure the band reached the 
Mississippi at the place where now stands the town of 
Anoka, Minnesota. There the Indians made a grand en- 
campment on the west side of the river, and there they 
staid several days until they had eaten up all their provi- 
sions and were threatened with famine. The three French- 
men had no food except unripe berries which disagreed 
with them and made them sick; and Hennepin says they 
might all have died had it not been for some magical pills 
which he happened to have with him. 

One day the friar and Du Gay made up a story, which 
they told to their captors, of some French traders who, 
they said, were expected to visit the Wisconsin at about 
that time. They asked permission to go in search of 
them, and used every argument to persuade the Sioux 
that this would be to their mutual advantage. The chiefs, 
after much parleying, agreed to let them go; but Accault, 
who was a favorite with the savages, and enjoyed nothing 
so much as the wild freedom of the woods and prairies, 
preferred to stay and take part in the great hunt. 


212 The Upper Mississippi 


IV. THE GRAND HUNT 


It was near the end of July when Hennepin and Du 
Gay embarked in a wretched, leaking canoe and began 
their lonely voyage. They had only a gun with 
fifteen charges of powder, an earthen pot, a 
knife, and a beaver robe which the Indians had given 
them; but they set out with brave hearts, expecting to 
make a journey of two hundred leagues before seeing 


1680 


the faces of friends. 

They had floated down with the current about twenty- 
five miles when their progress was interrupted by great 
waterfalls. They drew their canoe to the shore and stood 
admiring the wild grandeur of the scene, little dreaming 
that this charming but solitary place would become the 
site of a busy city more populous than any they had ever 
seen. Father Hennepin called these falls the Falls of 
St. Anthony, in honor of his patron saint, Anthony of 
Padua. In the book which he published some years 
later he described them as being forty or fifty feet 
in height and of surpassing beauty. Around them on 
both sides now lies the city of Minneapolis with its hum- 
ming mills, its busy traffic, and its thousands of pleasant 
homes. 

The two men did not stop long. They shouldered 
their canoe and carried it around the cataract to launch 
it upon the smooth water below. Five Indians were sit- 
ting among the branches of an oak tree overlooking the 
principal fall, and praying in woeful tones to the great 
manitou of the waters, while on another tree hung a rich 


The Grand Hunt 213 


robe of beaver skins which the savages had hung there 
to appease the spirit of the falls. 

The voyagers again launched their canoe, and, gliding 
in the shadow of limestone bluffs, looked up at the sloping 
heights whereon St. Paul, the capital city of Minnesota, 
was in time to be built, with its palatial homes and terraced 
lawns and magnificent views. First of white men to pene- 
trate to this remote spot, Father Hennepin, with all his 
lively imagination, was unable to foresee the wonderful 
changes that were to transform this region from a solitary 
wilderness to a fruitful garden and a busy mart of human 
industry. 

Onward down the great river they sped, having more care 
for their personal safety than for the grand scenery which 
opened on either hand. Game was so scarce that they 
were hard set for food and at times were on the point of 
starvation. Finally, however, after having fasted for 
forty-eight hours, Du Gay succeeded in killing a buffalo 
cow. Hennepin hastily cooked some morsels of the fat 
meat, and both ate so eagerly that they were sick for two 
days. 

“Never have we more admired God’s providence than 
during this voyage,’ says the friar; “for, although we 
did not always find deer, and could not kill them when 
we did, yet the eagles which are very common in those 
vast countries sometimes dropped from their claws large 
carp which they were carrying to their nests.” 

Soon after passing through Lake Pepin, Hennepin was 
astonished to meet the old Sioux, his savage father, whom 
he supposed to be a hundred miles behind. The chief 


214 The Upper Mississippi 


appeared to be in excellent good humor, and gave the 
voyagers some wild rice and a slice of buffalo meat to 
eat. Hethen hastened onward in advance of them, hop- 
ing to meet at the mouth of the Wisconsin the Frenchmen 
of whom Hennepin had told him, and to “carry off what 
he could from them.” Of course he did not find them, 
and three days later he returned to Hennepin and Du 
Gay. He told them that there were three hundred Sioux 
Indians hunting buffaloes farther up the river, and advised 
them to give up their voyage and go back with him. This 
they decided to do, and all set out in search of the hunters’ 
camp. 

The next day they met the Indians and were welcomed 
with as much kindness as savages are wont to show to 
their friends. Their old comrade, Accault, was with the 
hunters, and all enmity between him and Hennepin was 
soon forgotten. There was a grand hunt on the open 
prairie, and a great many buffaloes were slain; and in 
a few days the whole party, having laid up a plenteous 
supply of meat, turned their faces homeward, slowly re- 
tracing their way up the right bank of the Mississippi. 

About this time two squaws, coming from the Lake 
Superior region, reported that they had met “five spirits” 
— five white men— who were on their way to the Sioux 
country from the North. Hennepin, full of anxiety to 
know who these strangers were, hastened forward toward 
the place where they were said to be; but before reach- 
ing the Falls of St. Anthony he met them coming down 
the river. They were Daniel Duluth, and four other well- 
armed Frenchmen. 


Duluth S05 


Vir DULUTH 


Who was this Daniel Duluth? He was a cousin of 
Tonty, the friend of La Salle, and one of the most adven- 
turous coureurs de bois of his time. In the autumn of 1679 
he first visited the country of 
the Sioux west of Lake Supe- 
rior, landing not far from 
where the city named in his 
honor now stands. The fur 
traders of Montreal claimed 
that either Frontenac or La 
Salle had sent him there to 
buy furs, contrary to the law 
or agreement which had given 
to the Company of Canada 
the monopoly of trade in that 


1680 1o8!0n- In the fol- 


lowing summer he 


again returned to the head of 
the lake, having in his com- 


A Sioux wigwam 


pany an Indian interpreter and 

four Frenchmen. He was intent upon finding a water 
way into the heart of the Sioux country, and with two 
light canoes started up the Bois Brulé, a little river 
which enters the lake from the south. This voyage 
was not an easy one; for the current was often obstructed 
by brushwood and fallen trees, and in its upper course the 
stream was almost lost in weedy marshes. After making 
many portages, however, the party launched their canoes 


216 The Upper Misstssippt 


upon another little river, the waters of which flow south- 
ward. It was the stream now known as the St. Croix, 
and upon it the explorers floated without mishap down 
to the Mississippi. Duluth was filled with enthusiasm. 
He supposed himself to be much farther west than was 
really the case, and he believed that the river which he 
had now entered must, within a short distance, flow into 
the Gulf of California. 

While resting a few days at the mouth of the St. Croix, 
he learned from some straggling Sioux that the warriors 
of their tribe were near at hand, returning home from the 
summer's hunt, and that they had three white men with 
them. Duluth was anxious to know who these men were, 
and so made all haste to meet the hunters as they were 
coming up the river. When he saw Hennepin and his 
two companions he was overjoyed, for he had feared that 
the white strangers might prove to be Spaniards or Eng- 
lishmen exploring a region which the French claimed as 
their own. 

Soon after this unexpected meeting the eight white men 
parted from the Sioux, who had now become quite friendly, 
and set out together on their return to Canada. They 
floated slowly down the Mississippi, stopping often to hunt 
on the prairies which bordered its banks. Game was 
plentiful, and they tarried several days at the mouth of the 
Wisconsin, drying the flesh of the buffaloes which they 
had killed. Autumn was well advanced when they crossed 
the portage where Joliet and Marquette had passed in the 
opposite direction, seven years before, and embarked on 
the Fox River, which Hennepin described as “a stream 


Duluth 217 


which winds wonderfully.” They visited the village where 
the Miamis had formerly: dwelt, but found there only some 
Mascoutins and Kickapoos and a band of wild Outagamis, 
or Fox Indians. 

Near the mouth of the river they met some Frenchmen 
who were there trading with the Indians in defiance of 
orders from the governor. Father Hennepin was no 
doubt kindly entertained at the mission of St. Francis 
Xavier, for he says that 
“all our Frenchmen went 
to confession and com- 
munion, to thank God for 
having preserved us amid 
so many wanderings and 


”» 


perils; and yet; «since 
the station was in charge 
of the Jesuits and not of 
his own Order of Récol- 
lets, he carefully omits all 


mention of it. 


After a stay of on ly two ‘‘ Barefeet is a spirit ”’ 
days at Green Bay, the | 
party pushed onward to Mackinac, where they were obliged 
to stay all winter. In the spring, before the ice 
had melted from the lakes, Hennepin parted from 
Duluth and started, with several Frenchmen and Indians, 
for the settlements on the St. Lawrence. When he arrived 
at Fort Frontenac, a few weeks later, his friends welcomed 
him as one risen from the dead; for they had heard that 
the Sioux had hanged him with the cord which he wore 


1681 


218 The Upper Mississippi 


about his waist. The Indians at the fort also crowded 
around him, putting their hands to’ their mouths in token 
of wonder, and saying, “ Barefeet is a spirit to have traveled 
so far.” 


VI. TONTY AND MEMBRE 


Let us return now to Fort Crevecceur on the Illinois. 
Tonty, who had been left in charge of that station, found 

wae it no easy matter to control the rude men who 
composed the garrison. All were heartily sick 
of the enterprise in which they had engaged, and some 
were openly mutinous. Early in April two messengers 
arrived whom La Salle had sent back from Fort Miamis 
on the St. Joseph. They brought a letter to Tonty, 
advising him to abandon Fort Crevecceur and remove 
to the Great Rock. They also told doleful tales of their 
leader’s inability to “carry out his plans, and enlarged 
upon his haughtiness and his cruelty. The discontent 
increased ; and one day when Tonty was absent the men 
destroyed the palisades, stole all they could carry away, 
and deserted the place. Only three persons besides the 
priests, Membré and Ribourde, remained faithful to their 
leader. Tonty might now have returned to the lakes; 
but, after talking the matter over, his little company 
decided to go to the Illinois village near the Great Rock, 
and stay there until La Salle should come back from 
Canada. The Indians seemed glad to have their company, 
and the six white men passed the summer pleasantly 
in their wigwams. 

The two priests spent their time in trying to teach the 


Tonty and Membré 219 


savages some of the principles of religion and morality ; 
but, as Father Membré relates, they found them “idle, 
fearful, irritable, and thievish,” and so brutal and corrupt 
that it was almost impossible to make them better. 

As for Tonty, he too was busy. He taught the sav- 
ages how to use firearms, and persuaded them to build 
a little fort with intrenchments for the protection of 
their village. But he found them to be most arrant 
cowards, and very averse to fighting. 

One day, early in the fall, a Shawnee Indian came 
down the river bringing fearful news. He said that he 
had seen a large band of Iroquois, four or five hundred 
strong, marching across the prairie toward the Illinois 
towns, and destroying everything that fell in their way. 
In the village there was now the greatest confusion. 
The women and children were hastily sent away to an 
island several miles below, and the men made ready to 
defend their homes as best they could. 

The very next day the enemy was upon them — sav- 
age Iroquois and fierce Miamis in great numbers. The 
cowardly Illinois, even with the help of the Frenchmen, 
could not have stood long before such foes as these. 
Under pretense of giving themselves up, they induced 
the Iroquois to delay the attack; and then they fled 
down the river to join their women and children. The 
Iroquois would have killed the six white men, had they 
not been reminded that their nation was then at peace 
with the French, and that Onontio, the great white father, 
would fearfully avenge any injury that might be. done 
to his children. As it was, the chiefs advised Tonty to 


220 The Upper Mississippi 


escape from the place without delay, for they would not 
be able long to control their hot-spirited young braves. 

In a leaking canoe, the six men embarked upon the 
river and paddled upstream with all the speed they 
could make. Through the night and till noon the next 
day they toiled onward, fearing every moment to be 
overtaken or waylaid by their savage enemies. At last 
the canoe became so full of leaks that they were obliged 
to stop and mend it. While the men were at this work, 
the aged Father Ribourde walked out into the woods, 
repeating his: breviary as he went. He never returned. 
His friends sought for him on both sides of the river, 
and, despite the danger they were in, waited about the 
spot for twenty-four hours before renewing their journey. 
They afterward learned that three Wandering Kickapoos 
had waylaid him not far from the landing, and, having 
killed him, had hidden his body in the earth. A few 
weeks later these same Kickapoos appeared in the Indian 
villages near Green Bay, having the scalp of the mur- 
dered priest, which they boasted was that of an Iroquois 
chief. 

There were now but four men with Tonty, and, still 
fearing pursuit by the Iroquois, they pushed forward in 
their frail canoe, not daring to tarry longer. They had no 
food except such as they could find, and were obliged to 
live on acorns and wild onions and such small animals 
as happened to come in their way. Very soon their canoe 
failed them altogether, and they were forced to make the 
rest of their journey by land. They were barefooted, and 
the ground was covered with snow and ice; but Father 


Tonty and Membré 221 


Membré made shoes for himself and his companions from 
an old cloak that Father Ribourde had left with them. 
For nearly a month they wandered through the woods 
and prairies, and, having no compass, sometimes found 
themselves in the evening back at the place they had 
started from in the morning. At last, more dead than 
alive, they reached a village of friendly Pottawattomies, 
where they were kindly nursed back to health and 
strength. The chief of this village had been to Montreal, 
and was well acquainted with the French people; and he 
boasted that there were but three great captains in the 
world, himself, Count Frontenac, and the Sieur de la Salle. 
As soon as Tonty and his companions were strong 
enough to go onward again they set out, with some Indian 
guides, for Green Bay. The journey was made without 
mishap, and at the mission of St. Francis Xavier they found 
amost friendly welcome. The Jesuit missionaries 
entreated Tonty and the Reécollet brother to be 
their guests through the winter. ‘‘ We cannot sufficiently 


1681 


acknowledge the charity which these good fathers displayed 
toward us,” wrote Membré. 

All were grateful for the rest and security that were 
offered, and the generous invitation was accepted. As 
early in the spring, however, as the weather would permit, 
Father Membré set out for Mackinac, hoping to find news 
there from Canada. But Tonty remained a little longer 
at Green Bay. 


TO, THE | GREAD RIVER SeMOULH 
I. AT FORT MIAMIS 


T the very time that Tonty and his four companions 
were wandering bewildered through the woods and 
prairies west of Lake Michigan, La Salle with canoes and 
supplies was hastening along the eastern shore of that 
lake toward the mouth of the St. Joseph. He tarried but 
a brief time at Fort Miamis, and then hurried onward. 
ree Following the same route as that of the previous 
year, he crossed the portage at South Bend, floated 
down the marsh-bordered Kankakee, and late in Novem- 
ber arrived in the country of the Illinois. 

He had with him six white men and an Indian, having 
left five men at Fort Miamis. As they paddled swiftly 
down the river they were startled and amazed at sight of 
the desolation which the marauding Iroquois had left 
behind them. ‘The Ottawa village was in ashes. The 
Great Rock, farther down, was bare and tenantless. The 
village of the Illinois had been utterly destroyed. At Fort 
Crevecceur everything was in ruins; the palisades were 
broken down; the unfinished keel of the ship was in 
pieces, the savages having carried away every nail and 
bolt and bit of iron they could find. 

Sick at heart, La Salle with his companions again em- 
barked and paddled onward down the river. They passed 


222 


At Fort Miamts 228 


the spot where the Iroquois had overtaken the fleeing IIli- 
nois and had massacred their women and children with all 
the fiendish cruelty in which these savages excelled. Still 
urging their canoes onward, they finally arrived at the 
Mississippi. It was La Salle’s first sight of the great 
river —the river which for years had been the subject of 
his thoughts and the goal of his ambition. His men 
offered to go with him, if he chose, to discover the mouth 
of the mighty stream. But his good judgment told him 
that, with so small a force, this would be folly. He wrote 
a letter for Tonty, and, having tied it on a tree aoa 
overhanging the bank, he gave orders to return 

to the lakes. The beginning of the new year found him 
with eleven men again safely housed in the log fort near 
the mouth of the river St. Joseph. 

The fort was in the country of the Miamis, and several 
Indians belonging to various tribes of the middle North- 
west were encamped in the neighborhood. During his 
intercourse with these savages, La Salle formed a plan to 
unite the Miamis, the Shawnees, the Illinois, and their 
related tribes in a great league against the Iroquois. 
For, although the French were now nominally at peace 
with those terrors of the forest, he plainly saw that, unless 
their power was utterly crushed, they would offer a con- 
stant menace to the fur trade south of the lakes, and be 
a great obstacle to the success of his own ambitious 
projects. 

During the winter La Salle held councils with many of 
the tribes, and persuaded them to join the league; and 
toward the end of May he went down to Mackinac to 


224 To the Great Rivers Mouth 


gain the support of some of the more northern bands. 
What was his joy, on landing at that post, to meet his old 
comrade Tonty, whom he had almost given up as lost! 
The two friends related their adventures and talked over 
their plans, and the old project of exploring the Missis- 
sippi and establishing a line of trading posts to its mouth 
was revived. The Indian league was for a time forgotten, 
and, in June, La Salle and Tonty voyaged back to Fort 
Frontenac. 


Il; FROM” FORT "FRONTENAC “TO NATCHEZ 


La Salle found that his enemies had increased in num- 
ber, and that his creditors were more unreasonable and 
more clamorous than ever. The former, among whom 
were both Jesuits and Sulpicians, he defied in a manner 
which only increased the bitterness of their hate; the lat- 
ter he tried to conciliate by giving them a lien upon his 
estate of Cataraqui and upon all the profits which he hoped 
to gain from his western enterprise. But even this failed 
to satisfy them or win their friendship. 

In August, with Tonty and a company of fifty-four 
persons, he again started for the Mississippi country. It 
1681 2S Near the beginning of winter when all arrived 

at Fort Miamis. Here it was decided to leave 
some of the party while the rest went forward in two com- 
panies. Tonty, with most of the men, crossed the head 
of the lake to the mouth of the Chicago, and from that 
point: the canoes were dragged on sledges over the 
frozen streams to the Illinois. La Salle, following the old 


From Fort Frontenac to Natchez 225 


route down the. Kankakee, overtook the first party near 
the mouth of the Des Plaines. 

Not until after they had passed the site of Fort Créve- 
coeur was the river open enough to allow their canoes 
to float on the water. But below this point the adven- 
turers found the middle of the stream free from ice; 
and so, launching their canoes, they paddled onward with 
the current. It was early in February when they bee. 
arrived at the Mississippi. This mighty stream, 
at that time known as the River Colbert, was full of 
floating ice, and it was several days before La Salle 
deemed it safe to continue their voyage. At length, 
boldly embarking on its chilly waters, the explorers 
glided swiftly downward with the flood, now swollen by 
spring rains and the melting of northern snows. They 
passed the mouth of the unexplored Missouri — then 
called the Osage—and three days later reached the 
Ohio. La Salle beheld here a vast outpouring of water 
between low marshy banks and thickets of cane and 
underwoods, and did not realize that it was the same 
Belle Riviere whose upper courses he had explored more 
than thirteen years before. The Indians near its mouth 
called it the Ouabache (Wabash), and by that name its 
lower portion was generally known for half a century 
afterward. 

A few days later the party encamped near the third 
Chickasaw Bluff in what is now the state of Tennessee. 
Here a hunter named Prudhomme strolled away from 
his fellows and was lost in the woods. On the top of 
the bluff La Salle built a stockade; and when, after 


OLD NORTHWEST — 15 


226 To the Great River’s Mouth 


nine days, the hunter was found half dead from starva- 
tion, they named the place in his honor, Fort Prudhomme. 
Here Prudhomme was left with a few men to guard the 
stockade, and the others went on. 

About the middle of March they reached a village of 
the Arkansas Indians. While staying with these hospi- 
table people, La Salle planted a cross by the riverside, 
placed upon it the arms of France, and with great cere- 
mony took possession of all the country in the name of 
King Louis XIV. Father Membré, who was with him, 
sang the Lxaudit te Dominus, a volley of musketry was 
discharged, and the whole company shouted three times 
“Vive le roi!’’ The Indians, not understanding what was 
meant, looked on with delight, and joined in the general 
acclamation. 

After three days spent at this place the party con- 
tinued their voyage. About three hundred miles below 
the Arkansas they stopped to visit the great town of 
Taensas, which was built on a lake at some distance 
from the river. Tonty, in describing it afterward, said 
that he had never seen anything like it. The dwellings 
were large and square, built of sun-baked mud mixed 
with straw, and arched over with a dome-shaped roof 
made of reeds. The people were worshipers of the sun. 

Lower down the river the Frenchmen came to a vil- 
lage of the Natchez Indians, where they tarried a little 
while. La Salle slept in the village, and was struck 
with the great difference between these people and any 
other savages he had ever seen. They also were sun- 
worshipers. Before leaving this place La Salle planted 


Loutstana 227 


in the midst of the village a wooden cross upon which 
were affixed the arms of France. The natives looked 
on with pleased wonder, believing that this was done in 
token of friendship to them. 


III. LOUISIANA 


On the last day of March the voyagers passed the mouth 
of the Red River, below which they found the natives not 
so friendly. A week later they reached a point where 
two large islands separate the river, causing it to flow in 
three channels. In order not to miss the right way, La 
Salle now divided his company. He himself 1682 
took the right hand channel; his lieutenant led 
a party down the passage on the left; and Tonty with 
Father Membré and some others followed the middle cur- 
rent. The three parties reached the waters of the Gulf 
nearly at the same time, and on the 9th of April came 
together at the mouth of the middle outlet. 

A short distance above this place the whole company 
landed. Here a wooden column was raised, hymns were 
sung, a blessing was pronounced by Father Membré, and 
La Salle proclaimed in a loud voice, “In the name of 
Louis the Great, king of France and of Navarre, four- 
teenth of that name, I... do take possession of this 
country of Louisiana, the seas, harbors, ports, bays, straits, 
and all the nations, peoples, provinces, cities, towns, 
villages, mines, minerals, fisheries, streams, and rivers, 
within the extent of said Louisiana, from the mouth of the 
great river St. Louis, otherwise called the Ouabache [ Ohio ], 


228 To the Great River's. Mouth 


as also along the river Colbert, or Mississippi, and the 
rivers which discharge themselves thereinto, from its 
source beyond the country of the Sioux as far as its 
mouth at the sea, or Gulf of Mexico, and also to the 
mouth of the River of Palms, upon the assurance we have 
had from the natives of these countries, that we are the 
first Europeans who have descended or ascended the river 


‘** In the name of Louis the Great’ ”’ 


Colbert; hereby protesting against all who may hereafter 
undertake to invade any or all of the aforesaid countries, 
peoples, or lands, to the prejudice of the rights of his 
Majesty, acquired by consent of the natives dwelling 
herein. - 

When he had ended, the men shouted Vive le rot, and 


fired off their guns. . Then a cross was raised by the side 


Loutsiana 229 


of the column, and in the ground at its foot was buried a 
leaden plate bearing the arms of France and the inscrip- 
tion Ladovicus Magnus regnat —“ Louis the Great reigns.” 

By his discovery of the mouth of the Mississippi, La 
Salle proved that ships from Europe might sail direct to 
the vast interior of the continent. He now hoped that by 
colonizing the valley of the Mississippi he might not only 
add a new empire to the crown of France, but acquire 
much wealth and great renown for himself. 

The return up the river was fraught with trouble. 
Food was hard to find; the Indians were unfriendly ; and 
when the voyagers were still a hundred leagues below the 
Illinois, La Salle was seized with a dangerous illness which 
continued for forty days. It was not until the end of Sep- 
tember that he reached Fort Miamis, whither Tonty had 
preceded him by several weeks. He would have hastened 
on to Quebec and thence to France to tell his story to the 
king; but when he arrived by slow journeys at Macki- 
nac, he found the season so far advanced that he did not 
think it wise to go farther. 


LAS SAL Hola SNe eR Lois 
Tz FORT, ST; SLOUIS (ON THEY ILUMNORS 


HILE waiting for the return of health and the pass- 
ing of the long winter, La Salle was by no means idle. 
He now decided, with the help of his ever faithful friend 
Tonty, to establish a fort and colony on the Illinois that 
should serve as a rallying point for the friendly 

1682 : : 4s ; 

Indians and a defense against the raiding Iroquois. 
He had long had such a project in mind, and the time 
seemed favorable for putting it into execution. The fort 
would be the first of a chain of trading posts which he 
hoped to build from the Illinois country to the mouth of 
the Mississippi; by these all the trade of that region 
which he had named Louisiana would be controlled; and 
the furs and other products collected or procured from the 
natives could be shipped direct to France by way of the 
Gulf of Mexico. 

The two ‘friends resolved to begin their work without 
delay. Tonty, therefore, with a strong company of men 
and plentiful supplies, returned at once to the Great Rock 
on the Illinois River—the most suitable place for the 
building of a strong fortification and the establishment of 
a trading post. “This rock or hill rises abruptly to the 
height of more than one hundred feet above the level of 
the plain around it. Its summit, which is about an acre 


230 


fort St. Louts on the Illinois 231 


in extent, is somewhat level and can be reached only from 
one side, where a narrow pathway winds up from the 
wooded ravine below. On the side next to the river it 
overhangs the water, and the remaining sides are steep 
as castle walls. It is in itself a natural fortification. 
As soon as Tonty and his men arrived at the spot, they 
began their work. They cleared the trees and shrubs 
from the summit of the 
rock, and leveled off a 
space for the inclosure ; 
and when La Salle joined 
them, a few weeks later, 
all hands were engaged 


in building palisades and 
making intrenchments. 


Inside of the inclosure, 


The Great Rock 


storehouses and dwell- 
ings were put up, and at the corners blockhouses were 
built. 

This stronghold, La Salle named Fort St. Louis. 

In the meanwhile, Indians belonging to various tribes 
had come and put up their huts on the plain within 
sight of the fort. They came for the protection which 
they knew the Frenchmen could give them in case of 
another raid by the Iroquois. They came also for trading 
purposes, for a trading post always had great attrac- 
tions for the Indian. Here were soon gathered six thou- 
sand Illinois who had lately been scattered to the four 
winds by the destroying Iroquois. Hither also came 
Shawnees from the Wabash country, Miamis from Lake 


232 La Salle’s Last Enterprise 


Michigan, and Abenakis whose kinsmen lived in distant 
Maine. Within a few months it was estimated that four 
thousand warriors and more than twenty thousand _per- 
sons were settled in the near neighborhood of Fort St. 
Louis. 


Ike HEV LOSTeCOEGRY 


Early in the following summer La Salle, leaving Tonty 
in command of the fort, started again to Canada. He had 
heard that a new governor had been appointed 
10G3ae 
in place of Count Frontenac; and so he was not 
surprised to learn, before reaching Quebec, that all the 
privileges granted to him in the Northwest and on the 
Mississippi had been withdrawn. His enemies had tri- 
umphed, and now he must either give up all hope of success, 
or again lay his case before the king. He decided to do the 
latter, and so in the following November sailed for France: 
King Louis XIV. listened with pleasure to the story of 
the discovery of Louisiana; and when La Salle proposed to 
found colonies in that vast region and to open direct com- 
munication between France and the Mississippi through the 
Gulf of Mexico, he gave the project his hearty approval. 
Before midsummer, four ships were ready to sail with 
La Salle to the Louisiana country. Two hundred and 
eighty persons, including thirty gentlemen anda 
1684 : fe 
hundred soldiers, ‘‘mere wretched beggars solicit- 
ing alms,’ embarked on these vessels, ready to aid in the 
great enterprise and especially anxious to reap profit for 
themselves. There were six priests in the company — 
three Sulpicians and three Récollets—and among them 


The Lost Colony 233 


were Father Membré and La Salle’s brother, the Abbé 
Cavelier. There were also on board of La Salle’s ship two 
of his nephews, one of them only fourteen years of age. 

The vessels sailed from Rochelle on the 24th of July. 
From the very first there were delays and disasters. One 
of the ships was captured by the Spanish; and it was not 
until the following January that the other three 1685 
reached the northern coast of the Gulf of Mexico. 

They could not find the mouth of the Mississippi, but 
sailed past it and finally landed on the Texan shore at a 
place now called Matagorda Bay. 

A fort was built. La Salle took possession of all the 
adjoining country, and 
the arms of France 
were carved upon the 
fores® trees. se One. of 
the ships returned to 
France, and the other 
two, while exploring the 
coast in a vain quest 
for the hidden river, 


were wrecked. | LZ 
, A eae . 
The colonists were A277 BOs 

‘“They could not find the mouth 


of the Mississippi ”’ 


in great distress and 
blamed La Salle for all 
their misfortunes. Many were sick and all were suffering 
for the necessities of life. La Salle, in desperation, started 
with canoes to look for the Mississippi, but after four 
months returned, having lost a dozen of his men. 
Late in the following April, he started northward with 


234 La Salle’s Last Enterprise 


twenty men, hoping to reach the Illinois Country by 
an overland journey through the wilderness. But this 
1686 adventure also failed, and it was not long until, 
| having used up all their powder, the company re- 
turned to the fort. They had suffered great hardships, and 
of those who had started out half had perished by the way. 
Of the company that had sailed with La Salle from 
France, there were now only forty-five persons alive. These 
no longer hoped for aid from any quarter, either by land 
or by sea. All they could do was to persevere in the 
search for the Mississippi, and, having found it, to ascend 
it to the Illinois, where they would doubtless find friends. 


TU Pro EE END Or SAS GR tae iseice 


Early in January La Salle started again. In his com- 
pany were his brother and one of his nephews, a faithful 
soldier Joutel, a Reécollet priest, an adventurer named 
Duhaut, two Indians, and several others,—in all, fifteen 
men anda boy. Their course was toward the northeast, 
across vast plains where they encountered many bands of 
wandering Indians. Rains were frequent, the streams 
were swollen, and progress over the broken country was 
slow. Most of the men were discontented and mutinous, 
and even La Salle’s nearest friends failed to give him the 
support which he needed. His nephewand an Indian who 
had always been faithful to him were murdered. 

It was the middle of March when the party reached the 
stream in eastern Texas now known as the Trinity River. 
There the mutineers formed a plot to kill La Salle and lead 


The End of a Great Life 235 


the expedition themselves. One morning Duhaut and an- 
other Frenchman, lurking in the tall prairie grass, waylaid 
the great explorer and shot him dead. They stripped the 
body and left it to be devoured by wild beasts. 

Very soon the conspirators were quarreling among them- 
selves. The two men who had murdered La Salle were 
slain. The others, seven in all, seized upon whatever they 
could, and then started westward to join the Indians and 
lead a savage life in the wilderness. 

Those who were left placed themselves under the 
leadership of Joutel. They found three Indian guides who 
led them northeastward, through the Red River country, 
and finally to the Arkansas near its mouth. There, to 
their great surprise, they saw on an island a large cross, 
and near it a log hut. A moment later two Frenchmen 
issued from the hut and ran to welcome them. 

Tonty, in his fort of St. Louis on the Illinois, had heard 
of La Salle’s voyage and failure, and a year ago had set 
out with twenty-five white men and-eleven Indians to find 
him. He had reached the mouth of the Mississippi, and 
had searched for thirty leagues on either side, but with- 
out seeing any signs of the lost colony. In despair he 
had turned back, but at the mouth of the Arkansas he had 
decided to leave six men, in the hope that they might there 
hear some news through the Indians who often passed that 
way from the Gulf. It was two of these men that now 
welcomed the wanderers to their hut on the island. 

Summer had gone and the autumn frosts had begun to fall 
when Joutel and his party reached Fort St. Louis. Tonty 
was not there at the time, having gone on a visit to Canada, 


236 La Salle’s Last Enterprise 


but they were received by his lieutenant, and there they 
remained several days. Strange to say, they did not tell 
of La Salle’s death, but declared that he was well and was 
even then on his way to join them. They met Tonty at 
Fort Miamis, and deceived him with the same story. In- 
deed, it was not till they had reached France that the Abbé 
Cavelier told the truth about his brother’s tragic fate. 

The king was busy with his own affairs, and took no 
steps to find the colony at Matagorda Bay and relieve 
the few sufferers whom La Salle had left behind. It is 
thought that they soon afterward perished at the hands 
of marauding Indians. But the faithful Tonty, when at 
last the story of La Salle’s death was known to him, 
started without delay in search of the lost colonists. 

It was early in December when, with eight men, he 
left the Illinois country and began to descend the Missis- 
1689 sippi. In the following March he reached the 
Red River region, where six of his men deserted 
him and he lost all his powder. Under these circum- 
stances it was plainly impossible for him to go farther, 
and so with aching heart he returned to Fort St. Louis. 

About twelve months later he was pleased to receive 
from the king a royal grant of the region adjoining the 
fort; and there he lived for several years, trading with 
the indians and sending canoe loads of furs every spring 
to Canada. In 1702, however, he was induced to join a 
new colony that was making a settlement near the mouth 
of the Mississippi. Fort St. Louis on the Illinois was 
abandoned, and Tonty’s connection with the Old North- 
west was ended. | 


—_— —— 


HOW THE FIRST SETTLEMENTS WERE 
: MADE 


Biter wie iol N THE NORTHWEST 
i Poke st it LEMENTS 


T the close of the seventeenth century France was 

in possession, not only of Canada and the Great 
Lakes, but also of the 
entire valley of the 
Mississippi and the un- 
explored country be- 
yond. By looking at 
the map you can see 
how large a portion of 
~ the continent this was. 
(phe French’ people 
claimed that this vast 


region was theirs by 
right of discovery. 
heyy had pibeen “the 
first to navigate the 
Great Lakes, the first 
to explore the numer- 


‘At the close of the seventeenth century "' 


ous rivers, the first to penetrate the mighty forests or 
make their way across the boundless prairies. Saint- 
237 


238 French Life in the Northwest 


Lusson, at the Sault Sainte Marie, had made formal proc- 
lamation that all the lands adjoining the Great Lakes 
were under the dominion of France; and the Sieur de la 
Salle, at the mouth of the Mississippi, had taken possession 
of that river and its tributaries in the name of King Louis 
the Great. It would seem that no other European nation 
could show a better title to this fair country. 

The discoveries of La Salle and his companions had 
aroused great interest both in Canada and in France. 
Wonderful stories were told of the beauty and fertility of 
the country between the lakes and the great river. It 
was described as a region of rare promise, where the 
climate was mild and bracing, where the woods and 
prairies were full of game and delicious wild fruits, and 
where men might live and enjoy the fullest freedom. 
Compared with the cold and sterile regions of Canada 
this land was indeed an earthly paradise. 

These stories caused many people of the more adven- 
turous sort to leave the older settlements on the St. Law- 
rence and make their way westward. Those who went to 
the Illinois country followed La Salle’s route up the lakes 
and through the straits of Mackinac, and then southward 
to Fort Miamis at the mouth of St. Joseph River. From 
this point some passed on to the Illinois by way of the 
Kankakee, others crossed the lake to the Chicago River and 
then followed Marquette’s old route down the Des Plaines. 

Soon trading posts and missionary stations grew up in 
many places, and to these came other immigrants attracted 
by the glowing accounts that were given of that delightful 
country. In the last year of the century a Jesuit mission 


The Settlements 239 


was founded near the Mississippi, midway between the 
mouth of the Missouri and that of the Ohio. 

To this place came the two priests, Jacques 

Gravier and Gabriel Marest, with a number of Indian 
converts from Marquette’s old mission of Kaskaskia on 
the Illinois. They had fled thither to escape the maraud- 
ing Iroquois; and on the banks of a small river, two miles 
from the Mississippi, they built a church with a cluster 
of huts around it, and began life anew. 

They called the place Kaskaskia, from their old home; 
and to the little river behind the village they gave the 
same name. Soon other Indians came, and French trad- 
ers and woods rangers made their homes there; and thus 
the mission became the first permanent settlement in the 
Mississippi Valley. It was for a time the center of traffic 
up and down the great river, and the point from which 
many of the furs of the Northwest were shipped to the 
ili Dea harleyoix, al rench: traveler, visited the 
place in 1721, he found there a Jesuit college and about 
a hundred families of French people, besides a_ great 
number of dependent Indians. 

There were settlements also at Cahokia, Prairie de 
Rocher, and other points on or near the Mississippi; but 
none of them was of so much importance as Kaskaskia. 
In the time of its greatest prosperity several hundred slaves 
were held there by their well-to-do owners; and Philippe 
Francis Renault brought two hundred miners there to 
search for precious metals and work in the lead mines 
on the opposite side of the Mississippi. 

The Illinois Country, as it was called, was a part of the 


240 French Life in the Northwest 


Louisiana which La Salle had added to the domains of 
the French king. It included at first the region between 
the Ohio and the Great Lakes, and extended indefinitely 
along both sides of the great river. Ata later period the 
name was restricted to the district nearest the Mississippi, 
while the region farther east was called the Wabash 
Country, and was for the most part under the jurisdiction 
of Canada. 

But for half a century longer, in all the region east of 
the Wabash, and about the head waters of the Ohio, there 
was no attempt at settlement. The fear of the Iroquois 
prevented priest and trader alike from trespassing upon 
these great hunting grounds of the red man. 


ee LOE oR Bs 


It is interesting to learn how the French people in the 
Illinois Country lived in friendship with the savage tribes 
around them. Thesettlements were usually small villages 
on the edge of a prairie or in the heart of the woods. 
They were always near the bank of a river; for the 
water courses were the only roads, and the light canoes 
of the voyageurs were the only means of travel. There 
the French settlers lived like one large family, having 
for their rulers the village priest and the older men of the 
community. 

The houses were built along a single narrow street, and 
so close together that the villagers could carry on their 
neighborly gossip, each from his own doorstep. These 
houses were made of a rude framework of corner posts, 


ia eh 2A |: 


The Settlers 241 


studs, and cross ties, and were plastered, outside and in, 


with ‘cat and. clay’’—a kind of mortar, made of mud 
and mixed with straw and moss. Around each house 
was a picket fence; and the form of the dooryards and 
gardens was regulated by the village lawgivers. 

Adjoining the village was a large inclosure, or ‘‘ common 
field,’ for the free use of all the villagers. The size 
of this field depended upon the number of families in the 
settlement; it sometimes contained several hundred acres. 
It was divided into plots or allotments, one for each house- 
hold; and the size of the plot was proportioned to the 
number of persons in the family. Each household attended 
to the cultivation of its own ground, and gathered its own 
harvest. And if any one should neglect to care for his 
plot, and let it become overgrown with weeds and thistles, 
he forfeited his right to any part of the common field and 
his ground was given to another. 

Surrounding the common field was a large tract of 
cleared land that was used as a common pasture ground. 
In some cases there were thousands of acres in this tract, 
and yet no person was allowed to use any part of it except 
for the pasturage of his stock. When anew family came 
into the settlement, or a newly married couple began 
housekeeping, a small part of the pasture ground was 
taken into the common field, in order to give the new 
household its proper allotment. 

The priest occupied the place of father to all the vil- 
lagers, whether white or red. They confided all their 
troubles to him. He was their oracle in matters of learn- 
ing as well as of religion. They obeyed his word as law, 


OLD NORTHWEST — 16 


242 french Life in the Northwest 


The great business of all was fur trading and the care 
of their little plots of ground. The women kept their 
homes in order, tended their gardens, and helped with the 
plowing and the harvesting. The men were the protectors 
of the community. Some were soldiers, some were trad- 
ers, but most were engaged in hunting and in gathering 
beaver skins and buffalo hides to be sold to the traders 
and finally sent to Europe. 

The traders kept a small stock of French goods, laces, 
ribbons, and other articles, useful and ornamental, and 
these they exchanged for the products of the forest. The 
young men, as a rule, sought business and pleasure in the 
great woods. Some of them became voyageurs, or boat- 
men, in the service of the traders. In their light canoes 
they explored every rivulet and stream, and visited the 
distant tribes among the sources of the Mississippi and 
Missouri. Others took to the forest as woods rangers, or 
coureurs de bois, and became almost as wild as the Indians 
themselves. They wandered wherever their fancy led 
them, hunting game, trapping beavers, and trading with 
their dusky friends. Those who roamed in the lake 
regions built, here and there, small forts of logs and 
surrounded them with palisades. In one of these forts 
a company of two or three coureurs would remain for a 
few weeks and then leave it to be occupied by any one 
who might next come that way. A post of this kind was 
built at Detroit long before any permanent settlement was 
made there; and, scattered long distances apart, on the 
lake shore and in the heart of the wilderness, were many 
others. | 


The Settlers 243 


The northern coureurs, when returning from the woods, 
resorted to Mackinac as their headquarters; or, loaded 
with beaver skins, they made their way to Montreal, where 
they conducted themselves ina manner that would have 
shamed a Mohawk or a Sioux. But the rangers of the 
Illinois Country were in the habit of returning once each 
year to their village homes. There they were welcomed 
with joy, balls and festivals were given in their honor, 
and old and young gathered around them to hear the story 
of their adventures. 

Thus, in the heart of the wilderness, these French 
settlers passed their lives in the enjoyment of unbounded 
freedom. They delighted in amusements, and there were 
almost as many holidays as working days. Being a thou- 
sand miles from any center of civilization, they knew but 
little of what was taking place in the world. In their 
hearts they were devoted to their mother country; they 
believed that ‘France ruled the world, and, therefore, all 
must be right.” Further than this they troubled them- 
selves but little. They were contented and indolent, and 
never allowed themselves to be annoyed by the carking 
cares of business. 

They had no wish to subdue the wilderness, to hew 
down the forest, and make farms, and build roads, and 
bring civilization to their doors. To do this would be to 
change the modes of living that were so dear to them. It 
would destroy the fur trade, and then what would become 
of the traders, the voyageurs, and the coureurs de bois? 
These French settlers were not the kind of people to 
found colonies and build empires. 


244 Trench Life in the Northwest 


Ill. THE CHRISTIAN INDIANS 


The Indians who had been converted by the mission- 
aries lived in friendly intercourse with the French vil- 
lagers. The Jesuit fathers had taught them many of the 
ways of civilized life. At Kaskaskia they learned to 
cultivate the ground with wooden plows. They had rude 
mills for grinding their grain, and these were sometimes 
run by horse power, sometimes by windmills. They, as 
well as the French, owned cattle and sheep; and they 
traded in horses which had been brought from the dis- 
tant plains of Texas. 

Father Marest, one of the founders of Kaskaskia, has 
left an interesting picture of life and manners among these 
half-civilized people. ‘The chase and war,” he says, 
“are the sole occupations of the men, while the rest of the 
labor falls upon the women and girls. They are the per- 
sons who prepare the ground for sowing, do the cooking, 
pound the corn, build the wigwams, and carry them on 
their shoulders in their journeys. 

“These wigwams are constructed of mats made of 
plaited reeds, which they have the skill to sew together 
in such a way that the rain cannot penetrate them when 
they are new. 

‘Besides these things, they occupy themselves in manu- 
facturing articles from buffaloes’ hair, and in making 
bands, belts, and sacks; for the buffaloes here are very 
different from our cattle in Europe. Besides having a 
large hump on the back by the shoulders, they are also 
entirely covered with a fine wool, which our Indians manu- 


A Day in a French Village 245 


facture instead of that which they would procure from 
sheep. 

“These Indians are very different from what they 
formerly were. Christianity has softened their savage 
customs, and their manners are now marked by a sweet- 
ness and purity which have induced some of the French 
to take their daughters in marriage.” 


bVee A AY Nea RENCH. VILLAGE 


It is to Father Marest that we are also indebted for a 
description of the daily routine of life among the converts 
and French settlers at Kaskaskia. At early 
dawn his pupils came to him in the church, | 
where they had prayers and all joined in / 
singing hymns. Then the Christians in the 
village met together to hear him say mass, — 
the women standing on one side of the room, 
the men on the other. 

The French women were dressed in pret- § 
tily colored jackets and short gowns of 4 
homemade woolen stuffs, or of French 
goods of finer texture. In summer most 
of them were barefooted, but in winter 
and on holidays they wore Indian mocca- 


RCN 


sins gayly decorated with porcupine quills, 
shells, and colored beads. Instead of hats 
they wore bright-colored handkerchiefs interlaced with 
gay ribbons, and sometimes wreathed with flowers. 

The men wore long vests drawn over their shirts, leg- 


A villager 


246 French Life in the Northwest 


gins of buckskin or of coarse woolen cloth, and wooden 
clog shoes or moccasins of heavy leather. In winter they 
wrapped themselves in long overcoats with capes and 
hoods that could be drawn over their heads and thus serve 
for hats. In summer their heads were covered with blue 
handkerchiefs worn turbanlike as a protection from mos- 
quitoes as well as from the rays of the sun. 

After the morning devotions were over each person 
betook himself to whatever business or amusement was 
most necessary or congenial; and the priest went out to 
visit the sick, giving them medicine and consoling them 
in whatever way he could. In the afternoon those who 
chose to do so came again to the church to be taught the 
catechism. During the rest of the day the priest walked 
about the village, talking with old and young, and enter- 
ing into sympathy with all their hopes and plans. In the 
evening the people would meet together again to chant 
the hymns of the church. This daily round of duty and 
devotion was often varied by the coming of holidays and 
festivals, and sometimes by occurrences of a sadder na- 
ture — death, or misfortune, or the threatened invasion of 
savage foes. | 


i eee or ING OTT by TA ICES 


[De evACKINAG 


EAR after year passed by, and there were few 
changes in the Old Northwest. The Indian tribes 
still occupied the woods and roamed freely over the prai- 
ries. The few French settlements were like scattered 
encampments in a land of strangers. A few new posts 
were now and then established—but not many. A 
shorter route to Canada was opened by way of the 
Wabash and the Maumee; and stockades were built at 
Ouiatenon on the Wabash, and at the portdge where 
now stands the city of Fort Wayne. Unlicensed traders 
and coureurs de bois carried on a profitable business, not 
being restrained by fear of the law. Within a single year 
fifteen thousand skins and furs were gathered from the 
Wabash country and shipped down the Mississippi to the 
French ports on the Gulf. 

Along the lakes the French had established several 
fortified posts. The oldest was that of Mackinac at Point 
St. Ignace, where Marquette had set up his mission among 
the vagabond Hurons many years before. Here was Fort 
Buade, surrounded by palisades and defended by a garri- 
son of two hundred well-drilled soldiers, “the most ath- 
letic to be found in the New World.” The French village 
contained sixty houses, built along a single straight street, 

247 


248 The Posts on the Lakes 


and not far away were the long houses of the Hurons, 
precisely like those seen by Cartier at Hochelaga. 

Mackinac was the chief resort of all the fur traders 
and voyageurs in the region of the lakes; and at certain 
seasons thousands of Indians assembled there from the 
West and South. They came not only to trade with the 
French, but to catch fish; ‘for,’ says Father Marest, 
“during the greater part of the year one sees nothing 
but fish.” 

There were other posts on the lakes, at Green Bay, 
at the River St. Joseph, and at the Sault Sainte Marie; 
and there was a stockade at or near Chicago. At 
each of these posts there were a commander or goy- 
ernor, a Jesuit missionary, a few soldiers, and several 
traders. There was a fort with a chapel, and at a little 
distance were the wigwams of the friendly Indians. Next 
to Mackinac, the post at Green Bay was for a long time 
the most flourishing. It was a favorite market for furs, 
buffalo hides, and corn, which the Indians sold to the 
traders who came hither both from Canada and from 
the Illinois Country. 


Hee DETROIT 


The most famous of all the commandants who from 
time to time had charge of the post at Mackinac was 
a French captain named La Motte Cadillac. He it was 
who first saw the importance of a fort or settlement on 
the détroit, or strait, between Lake Huron and Lake 
Erie. This strait, he said, was the key to the upper 
lakes and the fur-producing regions around them. It 


Detroit 249 


was through this strait that the Iroquois sent their canoe 
parties to the rich hunting grounds of the North. It 
was through this strait also that the English east of the 
Alleghanies had but lately been trying secretly to open a 
trade with the Indians of the upper lakes. If a strong 
fort were built on its shore, both the English and the 
Iroquois would be held in check. 

La Motte’s plans were received with favor by the 
French colonial minister, and he was commissioned to 
carry them into effect. On one of the last days 
in July in the first year of the new century, he 
took possession of the site where now stands the city of 
Detroit. He had with him fifty soldiers and fifty traders 
and artisans, besides two priests — one a Récollet friar to 
minister to the troops, the other a Jesuit father to preach 
to the Indians. 

The fort, which he built close by the water’s edge, was 
merely a strong stockade of wooden pickets with a small 
blockhouse at each corner. Within the inclosure several 
houses made of logs and thatched with grass were soon 
in readiness for the officers and soldiers. La Motte 
called his fortress Fort Pontchartrain, in honor of the 
colonial minister; but in history it is generally known 
as Fort Detroit. 

In a short time many Indians began to build villages 
above and below the fort, looking to La Motte for protec- 
tion against the Iroquois. The Hurons, of whom there 
were but few, came from Mackinac; several bands of 
Miamis came from the eastern shore of Lake Michigan; 
and the Ottawas at Mackinac secretly sent La Motte a 


I'70I 


250 The Posts on the Lakes 


necklace to let him know that they also would come when 
they had gathered their harvest. All these had suffered 
much, in times past, from the cruelties of the Iroquois, who 
had driven them from their homes and slaughtered their 
bravest warriors; and they still lived in constant dread of 
these unpitying and powerful foes. Cadillac advised them 
to “weep their dead, and leave them to sleep coldly until 
the day of vengeance should come ;”’ and he promised that 
he would help them sweep the land of their enemies. 


i bab RA NDS! OrRn TER WEST 


Peet eee ni Gi ten LD Dr EROLL 


N the ancient country of the Winnebagoes, in eastern 


Wisconsin, many alien tribes and bands of Indians had 
made theirhomes. Among these were the Sacs, the Kick- 


apoos, the Miamis, and the Mascoutins. 
Within recent years the Miamis had 
emigrated to the country south and 
east of Lake Michigan, and their places 
had been taken by a fierce and restless 
nation called Outagamis, or Foxes. 
They were distantly related to the Iro- 
quois, and resembled them in many of 
their ways. They were the firebrands 
of the Northwest, always ready to fol- 
low the warpath, and eager to carry 
death and destruction among their foes. 
They looked upon the Jesuit mission- 
aries with distrust, and felt but little 
friendliness toward the French. But 
they were on the best of terms with 


One of the 
‘*firebrands’”’ 


their Iroquois kinsmen; and messages of peace and good 


will were often sent back and forth between the two 


nations. 


In the autumn of 1710, some Iroquois scouts made 


251 


252 The Firebrands of the West 


their way through the wilderness and appeared in the 
country of the Foxes. They brought news of much in- 
terest from the East. A war, they said, had actually 
begun between the English and the French; but just 
what it was about they could not tell. The Iroquois 
would take sides with the English, as they had 
done heretofore; and they hoped that their kins- 
men, the Foxes, would do the same and help to 
drive the hated French out of the country. 

Much more was said by these messengers. They 
gave to the Fox chiefs long strings of wampum 
from Dutch and English traders in New York, and 
told them how anxious the English were to buy 
furs from the Indians of the Northwest, and how 
they would give them more firewater and better 
goods than the French had ever given. Just what 
else was said, we do not know; but it was believed 
that a secret treaty was made between the Foxes 
and the Iroquois, for the Fox warriors were always 


Strings of caver for the warpath. 
tae. oein?the spring of the following year a fleet of 
canoes put out from Green Bay, crossed the foot of Lake 
Michigan, skulked along the southern shore of the strait 
of Mackinac, and then turned southward toward Detroit. 
These canoes bore the flower of the Fox nation —the 
wisest chiefs, the bravest warriors, and more than seven 
hundred women and children. There were also several 
Menominees and Sacs in the company, friends and neigh- 
bors of the Foxes, all eager for any adventure that called 


for bravery and held out the promise of plunder. 


The Fight at Detroit 23 


One day, late in April, this great array of savages sud- 
denly appeared before the fort at Detroit. It is not cer- 
tain that they had any evil intentions against the a 
French at that point. On the contrary, it is 
reasonable to suppose that they were not yet ready to 
begin hostilities; for it was not the custom of Indians to 
take their women and children with them upon the war- 
path. But they pitched their camp within fifty paces of 
the fort and began to build around it a rude bulwark of 
trees and brush and palisades. 

In the fort at that time there were no French soldiers; 
but the place was held by thirty voyageurs and coureurs 
de bois under a certain M. Du Buisson, 
who had succeeded Cadillac as com- 
mandant of the post. It was but 
a small force to contend with 
so many savages; for all the 
Hurons, Ottawas, and other 
friendly Indians who dwelt 
near by were away on their 
great annual hunt, and their 
wigwams by the riverside were 
empty. Za = = 

When Du Buisson asked the ~ === 
Foxes why they had come and “ They killed the chickens " 
what were their wishes, they at 
first answered that La Motte Cadillac, the founder of the 
post, had invited them, as he had invited the Hurons and 
the Ottawas, to come and make their homes in the shadow 
of the fort. But Du Buisson felt sure that they meant 


254 The Firebrands of the West 


mischief, and inquired why they were building a barricade 
around their camp. The Foxes then became insolent and 
declared that, since the country was really their own, they 
had a right to do as they pleased. 

Matters grew worse every day. The Foxes killed the 
chickens and pigeons belonging to the French, swaggered 
into the fort itself, and made bloody threats against its 
inmates. Du Buisson at last became thoroughly alarmed, 
and sent out messengers to summon his Indian allies. 

In the meanwhile seven or eight French traders under 
the Sieur de Vincennes happened to come in from the 
West; but so few men could give but little aid in so great 
a crisis. Within a week, however, Hurons, Ottawas, Pot- 
tawattomies, and even some Chippewas came hurrying to 
the relief of the fort. ‘‘ Father,” they cried, ‘‘ behold,. thy 
children compass thee round. We will, if need be, gladly 
die for our father— only take care of our wives and our 
children, and spread a little grass over our bodies to 
protect them.” 

The Foxes were taken by surprise. They hastily with- 
drew into their camp and made ready to defend themselves 
behind their rude intrenchments. They were at once 
surrounded by their foes, who outnumbered them four 
to one. 

Du Buisson urged his allies to spare the lives of the 
Foxes, and be content with driving them back to their own 
country. But the Hurons would not listen to him. They 
had always hated the Foxes with the bitterest hatred, and 
now they thirsted for their blood. . They declared that they 
would have vengeance for the injuries they had suffered 


The Fight at Detrott 255 


from the Fox nation, and threatened to attack the fort 
itself if Du Buisson would not help them. 

The beleaguered Foxes defended themselves bravely in 
their palisaded camp. Their enemies watched them from 
every side, and fired upon them day and night, but dared 
not make an assault. There was no water in the camp, 
and the Foxes with their women were soon without food. 
Yet they held out bravely for nineteen days. 

At last, almost dying with hunger and thirst, they called 
out to Du Buisson and offered to surrender if he would 
draw’ off his Indian allies and allow the starving Foxes to 
seek food for their women and children. The answer was 
given by the savage Hurons: ‘“ We see plainly that you 
mean only to deceive our father. If we should leave him 
as you wish, you would fall upon him and kill him. The 
English have sent you here to cut our father’s throat and 
give this country to them. But we shall see who is mas- 


”) 


ter.” And they began to fire at them again. 

In despair and great rage, the Foxes resolved now to 
defend themselves to the last. They shot blazing arrows 
over the palisades of the fort upon the grass-thatched roofs 
of the buildings within. Some of the houses were soon in 
flames; and it was only by covering the rest of the roofs 
with hides that any part of the fort was saved from this 
rain of fire. 

The French themselves were now in hard straits, for 
most of their stores had been destroyed, and their ammu- 
nition was running low. The Hurons and Ottawas were 
also discouraged, and declared that they would give up the 
fight and return to their hunting, for the Foxes could never 


256 The Firebrands of the West 


be taken. The coureurs and voyageurs begged Du Buis- 
son to abandon the fort and retreat to Mackinac. But 
the commandant called a council of his allies and made 
a speech which so aroused the pride of the Indian braves 
that they declared they would show him what they 
could do, and would dislodge the Foxes before the rising 
of another sun. 

Night came on, very dark, with wind and a drenching 
rain. The Hurons and Ottawas gathered around their 
camp fires, singing their war songs, and dancing the war 
dance, and boasting of their deeds of blood. Then, at a 
given signal, all seized their weapons and, rushing out into 
the darkness, made a sudden onset from all sides upon the 
camp of the Foxes. They crashed through the brush 
piles, scaled the palisades, and with fearful yells leaped 
down among the wretched wigwams where they supposed 
their foes were sleeping. 

But the Foxes were not there. They had stolen away 
under cover of the darkness, and were now hastening 
through the woods toward the north. At the earliest 
peep of day the- Hurons and Ottawas were on their trail. 
The Frenchmen joined the pursuit, and before night the 
fugitives were overtaken and forced to stand at bay. 
Upon a little peninsula that juts out into Lake St. Clair 
the Foxes again intrenched themselves behind a hastily 
built barricade of brush and trees, and made another brave 
fight for life. 

The French and their allies charged madly upon them, 
and were met with fierce resistance. On both sides of the 
barricade the ground was soon heaped with the dead and 


The Fight at Detroit 257 


the dying, and the allies were driven back with great loss. 
The French soldiers saw that some other plan must be 
adopted to drive the Foxes from their new stronghold. 
They hastily brought two small swivels from Detroit, and 
put up a battery that would command the whole front of 
the camp. Then French and Indians began the siege in 
savage earnest. ‘ 
On the fourth day the Foxes, utterly worn out with 
hunger, announced to the besiegers that they would sur- 
render and trust them- 
selves to their mercy. The 
Hurons and Ottawas and 
the French coureurs rushed 
at once into the encamp- 
ment and began a pitiless 
slaughter. They killed all 
the warriors who bore 
arms; the rest, including 
the women and children, 
they divided among them- 
selves as slaves. On the 
following day all returned 
to Detroit, dragging their 
captives with them. For 
some time afterward the chief amusement of the victors 


‘The chief amusement of the victors”’ 


was to torture, or otherwise put to death, four or five 
captive Foxes daily. Before the beginning of the autumn 
hunt all were slain. 

In this unfortunate expedition the Foxes lost more than 
two thousand of their tribe. 


OLD NORTHWEST — 17 


258 The Firebrands of the West 


Hi..2 THEA LUCULE -A Ua ORs rae sere 


But the firebrands were not yet wholly extinguished. 
There were still several scattered bands in the region 
west of Lake Michigan, and all these vowed to avenge 
the death of their kinsmen. They collected in the neigh- 
borhood of their old home in the valley of the Fox River, 
and began a ruthless warfare against all the tribes that 
were friendly to the French. Their warriors lay in wait 
at the portages and skulked along the rivers that were 
used as highways of travel to the west and south. They 
cut off for a time all communication between Canada and 
the Illinois Country, and filled the land with terror almost 
equal to that caused by the Iroquois. 

To meet this new danger the governor of Canada made 
a fresh treaty with the friendly tribes of the lakes, and 

ee all united to destroy the common enemy. Eight 
hundred French and Indians were soon marching 
to the Fox River country under command of Captain de 
Louvigny. The Foxes, when they heard of their com- 
ing, collected all their warriors at a place since called the 
Petit Butte des Morts (Little Hill of the Dead), not far 
from the present town of Neenah, where they shut them- 
selves up in a camp surrounded by three rows of strong 
palisades. In this camp five hundred fighting men and 
nearly three thousand women and children awaited the 
approach of their foes. 

It was not until late in the following summer that 
Louvigny arrived with his rabble of soldiers, coureurs de 
bois, and Indian allies. When he saw how strongly the 


The Little Hill of the Dead 259 


Foxes had intrenched themselves, he feared to make a 
direct attack upon them, and began to open trenches . 
around the camp. By this means he was able net 
on the fourth day to approach within twenty- 

five yards of the outer palisade. The Foxes bravely 
defended themselves, the women fighting as furiously as 
the men. But just as Louvigny was getting ready to 
undermine the palisades they sent word that if the French 
would make a treaty of peace with them they would 
surrender. 

A council was held and the whole matter was soon 
settled. The Foxes agreed to cede their country to the 
French; to pay, in furs, the expenses of the war; to give 
up all their prisoners; and to deliver to the allied Hurons, 
Ottawas, and Pottawattomies one slave for every captive 
that had perished while in their hands. These slaves 
were to be obtained by making war upon the Pawnees 
and other distant nations. 

Louvigny soon afterward returned to Canada, taking 
with him six young chiefs as hostages for the faithful 
performance of the treaty. 

The Foxes gave no more trouble for some time, but 
they neglected to send either the furs or the slaves which 
they had promised. The French still distrusted them, 
and for a long time it was thought unsafe for any one 
to go from the lakes to the Illinois Country without the 
protection of a strong guard. Communication between 
Canada and the Mississippi was carried on with much 
difficulty, and the trade in furs was obstructed, to the great 
loss of all who were connected with it. 


260 The Firebrands of the West 


III. THE QUENCHING OF THE FIREBRANDS 


For several years the restless Foxes contrived to keep 
a nominal peace with the French and with their Indian 
aunts neighbors. At length, however, an_ incident 

occurred that involved them in another war and 
brought upon them even greater misfortunes than before. 
It chanced that one of their chiefs, while out on a maraud- 
ing expedition, was captured by the Illinois and burned 
at the stake. This aroused the fury of the Foxes; they 
gathered their warriors together, made an attack upon 
the Illinois, and drove them to seek refuge on the rock 
where Fort St. Louis, built by La Salle and Tonty, 
had once stood. There was no help for the Illinois, and 
the Foxes might have kept them hemmed in until they 
starved ; but the latter feared the vengeance of the French, 
and after a few days skulked away, allowing their enemies 
to escape. 

When the news of this incident reached France, every- 
body blamed the Foxes and said that there could be no 
safety in the Illinois Country until these firebrands were 
utterly extinguished ; and it was announced that the king 
would handsomely reward any officer who would destroy 
them. But the French traders of the Northwest knew 
that this would not be an easy thing to do. ‘To try to 
exterminate them and fail would be disastrous,” they said. 

It was not until two years had passed that any direct 
movement was made against them. Finally, in the early 
summer, a great flotilla of canoes, carrying five hundred 
French soldiers and a thousand Indians, under the Sieur 


The Quenching of the Firebrands 261 


de Lignery, set out for the Green Bay region. They 
paddled up the Fox River, but found all the country 
deserted. They could do nothing but burn the ros 
villages and destroy the cornfields. Atone place 

they found three squaws and an old man cowering with fear 
among the deserted wigwams. The women were taken as 
slaves by the allies, and the old man was roasted to death. 
Having passed Lake Winnebago, they came to the last 
stronghold of the Foxes, on the banks of a small tributary 
to the Wisconsin. But they found no one there; and so, 
after burning their houses and destroying their fields of 
corn, they turned about and paddled back to Mackinac, 
whence Lignery and his soldiers soon returned to Mon- 
treal. 

At different times after this, other expeditions were sent 
out against the Foxes. Every man’s hand seemed against 
them, and both French and Indians were bent upon 
their destruction. Even the Iroquois joined their former 
enemies in a war party that was organized to make an end | 
of the poor Foxes. Thus hunted and betrayed, these un- 
fortunate people sought refuge in vain among the hills 
and woods of their native country. In 1736 they could 
muster only sixty or seventy warriors, besides two hun- 
dred or three hundred women and children. They were 
no longer strong enough to call themselves a nation; and 
so, leaving their old homes, they joined themselves with 
their friends and neighbors, the Sacs, whose hunting 
grounds lay along the banks of the Mississippi below 
the mouth of the Wisconsin, 


AFTER WORD 


WO hundred years had passed since Jacques Cartier 
had sailed up the St. Lawrence and from the summit 
of Mont Royal had gazed inquiringly toward the west, try- 
ing in vain to probe the secrets that lay hidden just beyond 
the horizon. One hundred years had elapsed since Jean 
Nicolet, coasting the lakes in his Indian canoe, had made 
the first white man’s visit to the shores of Wisconsin and 
Michigan. It was more than fifty years since La Salle 
had given the vast province of Louisiana to France. 
And yet how little had the French done toward develop- 
ing the resources of their possessions! A few feeble 
settlements here and there in the ancient forest, a few 
trading posts for traffic with the Indians, a few clumsy 
boats and bark canoes creeping along the waterways, — 
these were all that they could show as the results of a 
century of occupation. 

There is no knowing how long things might have gone 
on in the same slow, easy fashion had not events happened 
to change the whole current of American history. It was 
not the wish of the French king to build up a new empire 
in America, —far from it. The colonies were maintained 
not for the benefit of the people, but to increase the king’s 


262 


After Word 263 


revenues and enrich the king’s officers and favorites. In 
everything that was done, the interests of France were 
carefully considered, and the interests of Canada or of 
Louisiana, of the Illinois country or of the lake region, 
were as carefully ignored. 

Latterly very few families emigrated from France to 
America. The newcomers were for the most part single 
men, many of them soldiers, who were given their dis- 
charge and a year’s pay on condition that they would 
become settlers at places named by the king. These 
settlers always remained Frenchmen. They looked up 
to the king as their great father and guardian who 
would provide whatever was necessary for their welfare. 
And the king favored them with an oversight that was 
indeed fatherly, although it was always so directed as 
to turn everything to his own advantage. He not only 
selected the places for them to go, but he made laws to 
keep them there. Their farms must be of such shape and 
size as he should dictate. They must never go very far 
from the settlement in which their lot was cast. They 
must not trade in furs without a permit from the govern- 
ment. If their young men strayed into woods and became 
hunters and trappers, they were declared outlaws. Thus 
the rank and file of the settlers were in much the same 
condition as the peasants in old France—they had no 
rights, but were so cheerful and so easily satisfied that they 
had no thought of claiming any. Those in the higher 
ranks of life — king’s officers, soldiers, traders — were no 
less French than they. Their chief ambition was to 
reproduce in the new world the manners and modes of 


264. After Word 


thought of old France, ic serve the king, and to enjoy 
whatever of good might come in their way. 

Is it any wonder that the wilderness remained a wilder- 
ness ? 

But in both New France and the English colonies east 
of the Alleghanies, forces were at work which after many 
years would bring about great changes, put the country 
into the hands of new masters, and prepare the way for 
the upbuilding of mighty commonwealths and the develop- 
ment of boundless wealth in the regions so long covered 
with wild forests and unbroken prairies. In the very first 
years of the eighteenth century the English were begin- 
ning to look with covetous eyes toward the country of the 
lakes and the valley of the Mississippi. Dutch-English 
traders at Albany and Oswego were persuading the Iro- 
quois to deed them their hunting grounds south of Lake 
Erie. Pennsylvania traders had visited the Ohio and were 
tampering with the Miami Indians whose homes were 
between that river and the head waters of the Maumee. 
The governor of Virginia was urging the English Lords 
of Trade to fortify the mountain passes of the Alle- 
ghanies and make settlements on the lakes. The. pro- 
prietor of Carolina was planning to establish a colony 
on the banks of the Mississippi. English merchants 
were impatiently anxious to secure a part or all of the 
trade in furs with the western Indians—a trade which 
the French had heretofore monopolized at their pleasure. 
Sooner or later it would be decided whether France or Eng- 
land had the best right to the central portion of the con- 
tinent, and especially to that part which we now know as 


After Word 265 


the Old Northwest. A struggle of half a century’s dura- 
tion had already begun; but the question of the final occu- 
pation and destiny of the country was not to be settled 
until after a second struggle, shorter, but equally impor- 
tant in its results, had been brought to a close. 

The story of these two struggles and of the winning of 
the Old Northwest for civilization and freedom must be 
reserved for another volume. 


INDEX 


ABENAKI INDIANS, 231. 

Accault accompanies Hennepin to the 
upper Mississippi, 202, 204-218. 

Akamsea, 173. 

Algonquins, 31, 49, 60, 88, 93, Io5. See 
Ottawa Indians. 

Alleghany Mountains, 264. 

Allegheny River, 146. 

Allouez, Claude, at Sault Ste. Marie, 147, 
159; at St. Esprit, 146; at Green Bay, 
150, 165, 176. 

Allumettes, Island of, 49, 60, 80. 

Andastes, 72, 73, 80. 

Andiarocte, 103. See Lake George. 

Anoka, Minnesota, 210. 

Arkansas Indians, 173, 226. 

Arkansas River, 173, 235. 

Ashland, Wisconsin, 114. 


BALBOA, 45. 

Baie des Puans, 89, I1I, 127. See Green 
Bay. 

Bay de Noquet, 88. 

Bay of the Fetids. See Green Bay. 

Bazire, 173. See Arkansas River. 

Beautiful River, The, 136. See Ohio 
River. 

Brébeuf, Father, 85, 96, 106. 

Brulé, Etienne, with Champlain, 35, 66; 
among Hurons, 37, 55, 70, 81; at 
Montreal Island, 40; discovers Lake 
Ontario, 73; on the Susquehanna, 80; 
probably meets Nicolet, 81; visits the 
Northwest, 82; his death, 83. 

Buade, Lake. See Lake Buade. 

Buade, Louis de, 161. See Frontenac. 

Buade River, 168 See Mississippi 
River, 


Buffaloes, described by Marquette, 168; 
by La Salle, 186; hunted by Sioux, 
212, 


CADILLAC, LA MOTTE, 248, 253. 

Cahokia, 238. 

California, Gulf of, 136, 167. 

Calumet, the, 171. 

Canada, I1, 76, 92, 121, 131. See New 
France. . 

Carhagouha, 70, 74. 

Carolina, proprietor of, 264. 

Cartier, Jacques, II, 24, 35, 68, 88, 132. 

Cataraqui, 181. 

Cavelier, Abbé, 131, 132, 232, 235. 

Cavelier, Robert. See Za Sadle. 

Cayuga Creek, Igo. 

Cayugas, 29. See /roguois. 

Champlain, Samuel de, early life, 24; 
founds Quebec, 28; goes against Iro- 
quois, 32, 35, 65-74; at Quebec, 31, 
32, 34, 38, 43, 56, 65, 74; at Montreal, 
39, 132; in Paris, 47, 56; governor, 
84; ascends Ottawa, 48,65; at Three 
Rivers, 84, 94; death, 95. 

Charlevoix, in the Northwest, 239. 

Chaudiére, cataract, 66. 

Chautauqua Lake, 140. 

Chequamegon Bay, 141. 

Chicago, 176; first habitation, 178. 

Chicago River, portage, 176, 186, 224. 

Chickasaw Bluff, 225. 

Chickasaws, 173. 

China, dreams of finding a route to, 25, 
35, 45, 50, 67, 76, 82, 90, IOI, IIo, 118, 
135. 

Chippewas, 82, 86, I00, III, 147, 149, 
254c | 


267 


268 


Colbert, prime minister, 126. 

Colbert River, 225. See A/ississippi. 

Conception River, 164. See A/ssissippi. 

Copper, in Superior region, 35, 82, 85, 
I2I-123, 125, 129. 

Council, at Chief Tessouat’s, 51; with 
Hurons, 74; with Winnebagoes, 91; 
with Mascoutins and Miamis, 165; 
with Illinois, 171; with Arkansas 
Indians, 174. 

Coulonge, Lake, 49. 

Courcelle, Governor, 136. 

Coureurs de bois, 150, 242. 

Crévecceur, 198. See Fort Créveceur. 

Crown Point, 33. 

Cuyahoga River, 140. 


DABLON, CLAUDE, 149, 158, 165. 

Dakotas, 92. See Stoux. 

Daniel, Father, 85. 

Des Piaines River, 176, 178, 225. 

Detroit, first post at, 242; founded by 
Cadillac, 248; threatened by Fox Indi- 
ans, 253-260. 

Detroit River, discovered, 128; 154, 192. 

Dollier, Father, 129, 137, 153. 

Drainage Canal, 178. 

Du Buisson, 253. 

Du Gay, 202. 

Duhaut, 234. 

Duluth, Daniel, on Lake Superior, 215; 
with Hennepin, 214, 216. 

Dutch-English traders, 252, 264. 

ENGLISH, in New York, 252, 264; in 
Virginia, 173; claims, 264. 

Erie, Lake. See Lake Erie. 

Esprit, St., mission of. See SZ, Lsfprit. 


FALLS, of Ohio, 139; of Niagara, 138. 
“ Father of Waters,” 92. See Mississippi. 
Fetid Water, men of the, 88, 151. See 
Winnebagoes. 
Fire Nation, 93. 
Five Nations, the. See /roguozs. 
Fort Buade, 247. See Mackinac. 
Fort Crévecceur, 198, 218, 222. 
Fort Frontenac, 177, 182, 184, 217. 
Fort Miamis, 196, 201, 222, 


See Mascoutins. 


L[ndex 


Fort Pontchartrain, 249. See Detrozt, 

Fort Prudhomme, 226. 

Fort St. Louis on the Illinois, 229, 235, 
236, 260. 

Fort Wayne, Indiana, 247. 

Fort William Henry, 104. 

Fox Indians, 165, 217, 251-260. 

Fox River, 89, 93, 128, 150, 165, 194, 216, 
260. 

Franciscans, 56. See Récodlets. 

French River, 61, 66, 86. 

French village, day in, 245. 

Frontenac, Count, 161, 177, 181, 231. 

Frontenac, Fort. See ort Frontenac. 

Fur trade, 28, 35, 39, 55, 57, 77, 109, III, 
TI2, 5120, 12%; 134; 181; 183/5104;- 243; 
247, 264. 


GALINEE, FATHER, 129, 137, 153. 

George, Lake. See Lake George. 

Georgian Bay, 67, 86, 94, 98, 197. 

Grand River, Canada, 129, 154. 

Gravier, Jacques, 239. 

Great Manitoulin, 86. 

Green Bay, 88, 94, 110, 117, 127, 164, 193, 
217, 221, 248, 252. 

Grenolle, with Brulé, 82. 

Griffon, built, I91; voyage, 192; lost, 
194, 201. 

Grosseilliers, Medard Chouart, Sieur de, 
IOg-I2I, 125, 141. 

Guérin, Jean, 142, 145. 


HAMILTON, Canada, 129. ° 

Hennepin, Father, at Fort Frontenac, 
187; at Niagara, 188; in Illinois, 198, 
202; on Mississippi, 204; a captive, 
209; returns to Canada, 217. 

Henry IV. of France, 24. 

Hill, Little, of the Dead, 258. 

Hochelaga, 14, 68, 132, 248. 

Hodenosaunee. See /roguois. 

Hudson River, 34, 89, 105, 140. 

Hudson’s Bay Company, formation, 121. 

Huron, Lake. See Lake Huron. 

Hurons, homes, 30, 64, 68; as fur traders, 
40, 57; war with Iroquois, 65-72, 106; 
kill Etienne Brulé, 83; treatment. of 
missionaries, 97; dispersion, 106, 116, 


Index 


140; in Wisconsin, 116, 143, 152; at 
St. Ignace, 156; at Detroit, 249. 


ILLINOIS, discovery, 94. 

Illinois country, 239, 260. 

Illinois Indians, 151, 163, 198,218, 231, 260. 

Illinois River, 172, 197, 201, 218, 222. 

Indians, great change in modes of life, 

' 146; at Sault Ste. Marie, 158; Chris- 
tians, 244. See names of different 
nations or tribes, 

Irondequoit Bay, 137. 

Iroquet, Ottawa chief, 38, 4o. 

Iroquois, country, 29; campaigns against, 
31, 32, 35, 65-74; antipathy to French, 
32, 38, Io2, 112, 181; their treatment 
of other nations, 32, 92, 106, II5, 129, 
156, 219, 222, 250; cruelty, 102, 105, 107, 
137, 219, 223; disperse the Hurons, 
106, 141; make peace with the French, 
182; vengeance upon them promised, 
250. 


JESUITS, missionaries, 96; Allouez, 146; 
Brébeuf, 85, 96; Dablon, 149; Daniel, 
85,96; Jogues, 99, 102, 105; Lalemant, 
106; Marquette, 150, 163; Ménard, 
141; Raymbault, 99; at Sault Ste. 
Marie, 127; at residence of Ste. Marie, 
96; relations with the Sulpicians, 130, 
137. See also names of individuals. 

Jogues, Isaac, at Sault Ste. Marie, 99, 
149; at Lake Superior, 114; captivity, 
102-104; death, 105. 

Joliet, Louis, sent to Lake Superior, 126, 
147; at Green Bay, 127; at Sault Ste. 
Marie, 158, 161; first to traverse Lake 
Erie, 128; meets La Salle, 129, 138, 
154, 177, 183; recommended to Fronte- 
nac, 162; joins Marquette, 162; on 
the Wisconsin, 167; discovers the Mis- 
sissippi, 168; returns to Canada, 175, 
Ly 

Joutel, with La Salle, 234; at Fort St. 
Louis, 235. 


KANKAKEE RIVER, 107, 222, 225. 
Kaskaskia on the I ]linois, 175. 
Kaskaskia on the Kaskaskia, 239, 244. 


269 
Keweenaw, IT4, 142. 
Kickapoos, 165, 217, 220 251. 
LA BELLE RIVIERE, 135. See Ohzo 


River. 

La Buade, 168. See AVississippi. 

La Chine, 133; La Salle’s house at, 134, 
136. 

Lachine Rapids, 25, 27, 40, 134, 177; 
view of, 42. 

Lacrosse, Wisconsin, 206. 

Lake Buade, 209. 

Lake Champlain, discovered, 33: 102, 

Lake Coulonge, 49, 60, 66. 

Lake Erie, early reports of, 124; trav- 
ersed by Joliet, 128; by La Salle, 140, 
192; by Dollier and Galinée, 154; first 
ship on, 192. 

‘Lake George, discovery of, 102. 

Lake Huron, discovery of, 56-63; trav- 
ersed by Brulé, 82; by Nicolet, 86; by 
Joliet, 128; by Dollier and Galinée, 
154; by LaSalle, 192. See Mer Douce. 

Lake Michigan, discovery of, 76-88; 
traversed by Nicolet, 94; by Grosseil- 
liers and Radisson, 111; by Joliet, 127, 
176; by Marquette, 179; by La Salle, 
193, 195- 

Lake Nipissing, 66, 74. 

Lake of the Holy Sacrament, 103. See 
Lake George. 

Lake of the Two Mountains, 42. 

Lake Ontario, discovery of, 64-73; trav- 
ersed by La Salle, 137; by Count 
Frontenac, 181; by La Salle and 
Tonty, 188. 

Lake Peoria, 198. 

Lake Pepin, 213. 

Lake St. Clair, discovery of, 128, 256. 

Lake St. Louis, 20, 40, 42, 135. 

Lake St. Peter, 102. 

Lake Simcoe, 72, 106. 

Lake Superior, discovery of, 1o1, 114; 
first exploration, II16-12I; copper re- 
gions, 35, 82, 85, I2I-123; missions 
on, 142, 148. 

Lake Tracy, 147. See Lake Superior. 

Lake Winnebago, 93, 165, 261. 

Lalemant, Father, 106, 


270 


La Motte Cadillac. See Cadillac. 

La Motte de Lussiére, 188, Igo. 

La Pointe, 114, 119, 142, 147, I5I. 
St. Esprit, Mission of. 

La Salle, Robert Cavelier, Sieur de, his 
youth, I3I; comes to Canada, 132; at 
La Chine, 133; starts on an expedition, 
137; meets Joliet, 129, 138, 154; proba- 
bly discovers the Ohio, 139; his sec- 
ond enterprise, 185; at Cataraqui, 182; 
with Frontenac, 183; commands Fort 
Frontenac, 184; in France, 186; honors 
and privileges granted to him, 184; 
gains aid of Tonty, 187; at Fort 
Frontenac, 188; builds the Grzfon, 
191; his enemies, 135, 185, 190, 199, 224, 
235; voyage on Lake Erie, 193; on 
Lake Michigan, 195; down the Illi- 
nois, 197; at Crévecoeur, 198-202; re- 
turns to Canada, 203; meets Tonty, 
224; reaches the Mississippi, 225; 
takes possession of Louisiana, 227; re- 
turns to Illinois, 229; at Fort St. Louis, 
230; in France, 232; voyage to found 
colony on the Mississippi, 232; on the 
Texan coast, 233; his last expedition, 
234; death, 235; fate of his colony, 
236. 

Le Caron, Joseph, 57, 66, 70, 74, 76, 86, 
128, 

Lewiston, 188. 

Lignery, 260. 

Louis XIV., 159, 187, 225, 227, 232. 

Louisiana, 227-229. 

Louisville, Kentucky, 139. 

Louvigny, 258. 


See 


MACKINAC (Michillimackinac), 127, 156, 
162, 179, 193, 247. 

Mackinac Island, 87, 193. 

Manhattan, Ios. 

Manitoulin Islands, 86, 156. 

Maps: part of Canada, showing the first 
approaches to the Old Northwest, Io; 
island of Montreal, 22; country of the 
Iroquois, 29; country of the Hurons, 
64; Nicolet’s route to Green Bay, 86; 
old Jesuit map of Lake Superior, 109; 
Joliet’s route through the lakes, 124; 


Index 


Lake Erie and the Ohio, 140; Gali- 
née’s map of the lakes, 155; the Illinois 
River and its approaches, 195; North 
America at the close of the seventeenth 
century, 237. 

Marest, Gabriel, 239, 244, 245. 

Mascoutins, 93, III, 165, 217, 251. - 

Matagorda Bay, 232, 236. 

Mattawa River, 61, 66. 

Maumee River, 186. 

Membré, Zenobe, 192, 218, 226, 

Ménard, Réne, 141, 144. 

Menominees, 89, 164. 

Mer Douce of the Hurons, 61, 66, 82, 87, 
141, 156. See Lake Huron. 

Mesconsing, 167. See Wisconsin River. 

Mexico, Gulf of, 174, 227, 230. 

Miamis, 165, 166, 206, 217, 219, 223, 231, 
251. 

Michigan, 86. 

Michigan Lake. 

Mille Lacs, 208. 

Minneapolis, Minnesota, 212. 

Minnesota, Hennepin in, 209-216. 

Mississippi River, heard of by Nicolet, 
92; visited by fleeing Hurons, 116; 
supposed to have been seen by Gros- 
seilliers and Radisson, 117; intima- 
tions of, 124, 148, 151, 161, 162; discov- 
ered by Joliet and Marquette, 168-175 ; 
explored by Accault and Hennepin, 
204-218; La Salle descends to its 
mouth, 222-229; he fails to reach it 
from the Gulf, 233; Tonty explores 
country on both sides, 235; colony 
near its mouth, 236; explored by voy- 
ageurs, 242; ITrench settlements on, 
239; early commerce, 239, 247. 

Missouri River, discovered by Joliet, 
172; seen by La Salle, 225. 

Mohawks, 104, 106. See /roguois. 

Montreal, 11,:19, 132, 140, I55. 

Montreal, Island of, 11, 22, 24, 30, 38, 40, 
43, 45, 48, 55, 57, 64, 77, 84. 

Mont Royal, 18, 22, 24, 38, 40, 46, 65. 

Muskingum River, 140. 


See Lake Michigan. 


NATCHEZ INDIANS, 226, 
Neenah, Wisconsin, 258. 


Index 


New France, its products and industries, 
30, 47,112, 131; its extent, 273. See 
Canada and Louisiana, 

New York, Indians of, 29; English in, 
181, 264. 

Niagara Falls, heard by La Salle, 138; 
discovered by Hennepin, 189. 

Niagara River, 188. 

Nicolet, Jean, 76-95, 128, 165. 

Nipissing Lake. See Lake Nipissing. 

Nipissings, 53, 61, 66, 80, 83, 85. 

Northwest Passage. See South Sea. 


OHIO RIVER, intimations of, 135, 138; 
discovered by La Salle, 139; seen by 
Marquette, 172; its mouth passed by 
La Salle, 225; English traders on, 
264. 

Ojibways, 147. See Chippewas. 

Old Northwest, first approach to, 11; 
gateway to, 21, 24, 43; unknown, 67; 
first white man’s dwelling in, 115; first 
church in, 148; France takes formal 
possession of, 158; described by La 
Salle, 186; visited by Charlevoix, 239; 
wonderful stories of, 238; few changes 
in, during French rule, 247,262; French 
life in, 237. 

Oneidas, 29. See /roguots. 

Onondagas, 29, 73. See /roguois, 

“ Onontio,” Indian name for the governor 
of Canada, 182, 219. 

Ontario Lake. See Lake Ontario. 

Osage River, 225. See Missouri River. 

Otchipwes, 82. See Chippewas. 

Otoitiacha, 67. 

Ottawa Indians, 31, 35, 49, 45, 56, 77, 93, 
94; original home of, 31, 49, 77; in 
Wisconsin, 116, 141, 142, 148, 152; at 
St. Ignace, 179; in Illinois, 198, 222; 
at Detroit, 249. 

Ottawa River, at Montreal, 11, 20, 40, 42; 
ascent of, 48, 59, 66; La Salle on, 135; 
route to the lakes, 129, 155. 

Ouabache, 225. See Wabash River. 

Ouendats, 30. See Hurons. 

Ouiatenon, 247. 

Ouinnepegs, 85, 87, 89. See Winnebagoes. 

Outagamies, 251. See ox /ndians, 


271 


PACIFIC OCEAN, efforts to find a pas- 
sage to, 21, 35, 46,67, 90, 93, 183. See 
China, 

Paris, the talk of, 46, 48. 

Pawnees, 259. 

Pekitanoui, 172. See Missouri River. 

Pennsylvania first entered by Brulé, 
80; traders invade the Northwest, 
264. 

Peoria Lake, 198. 

Pepin Lake. See Lake Pepin. 

Perée.720,130).147. 

Perrot, Nicholas, 157. 

Petuns, 115. See Zobacco Indians. 

Pilgrims, landing of, 89. 

Pointe aux Barques, 128. 

Pottawattomies, 94, 100, III, I50, 254. 

Poualaks, 119. See Szoux, 

Prairie de Rocher, 239. 

Puans, Baie des. See Green Bay. 


Ji ‘ 
QUEBEC, Champlain at, 28, 31, 32, 34, 
38, 39, 43, 56, 65, 74; visited by Nico- 
let, 77; by Jogues, 101; Radisson and 
Grosseilliers, 111-113; Joliet, 117; La- 
Salle, 231; Hurons, 107; Chippewas, 
poo es 


RADISSON, Pierre d’Esprit, Sieur de, 
109-121, 125, 141. 

Rapids in the St. Lawrence, 25, 40, III. 
See Lachine Rapids. 

Raymbault, Charles, 99, 149. 

Récollets, first missionaries to Canada, 
56; with La Salle, 192, 232; entertained 
at Green Bay, 217, 221; with Cadillac, 
249. 

Red River, 227, 235. 

Renault, Philippe Francis, 239. 

Ribourde, Gabriel, 192, 202, 218, 220, 

Richelieu River, 36, Io2. 

Rochester, New York, 137. 

Rock, the Great (‘Starved Rock”’), on 
the Illinois, 198, 203, 218, 222, 230, 260. 
See Fort St. Louts. 

Rum River, 210. 


SAC INDIANS, 145, 251, 261. 
Saginaw Bay, 128, 


6 


272 


St. Anthony, falls of, 212, 214. 

St. Anthony of Padua, 205, 212. 

St. Clair Lake. See Lake St. Clair. 

St. Clair River, 128, 154. 

St. Croix River, 118, 216. 

St. Esprit, mission of, 147, 149, I5I, 152. 

St. Esprit, Pierre d’. See Radisson. 

St. Francis River, 210. See Rum River. 

St. Francis Xavier, mission of, 150, £65 
194, 217, 221. See Green Bay 

St. Ignace, mission of, 156, 162, 7 9, 160, 
193. See Mackinac. 

St. Joseph River, 179, 195, 222, 248 

St. Lawrence River, 11, 24, 39, 50, 56, 
102, 181; view ot, 23. 

St. Louis Lake. See lake Sz. Louzs. 

St. Louis, Missouri, 172. 

Saint-Lusson, Sieur, 157, 237. 

7 Ste. Marie, residence of, 96-99, 108. 

Ste. Marie’s River, 154. 

Ste. Marie, Sault. See Sau/t Ste. Marie. 

St. Paul, Minnesota, 207, 213. 

Sault Sainte Marie, 86, 99, 110; view of, 
at present time, 100; mission at, 127, 
142, 149, 153, 156; Saint-Lusson at, 
157; trading post, 248. 

\ Savignon, 38, 41. 

Senecas, 29, 106, 135, 137. See /roguois. 

Shawnees, 138, 172, 223, 231. 

Simcoe Lake. See Lake Simcoe, 

Sioux Indians, 116, 117, 145, I5I, 162; 

visited by Grosseilliers and Radisson, 
117; by Allouez, 149; capture Henne- 
‘pin, 205-217. ‘ 

South Bend, Indiana, 197, 222. 

South Sea, dreams of finding a passage 
uit t@} 21, 25, 35, 45, 46, 56, 67, 82, 85, 1x0, 
*. 

' ulpicians, 129, 131, 132, 137, 139, I55,. 

_ 162, 232. See Dollier and Galinée. 

Superior Lake. See Lake Superior. 

Susqu.; 2nna River, 80, 


Pog 


a 


Index 


TABAGIE at Chief Tessouat’s, 51. See 
Council, 

Talon, Jean Baptiste, 125, 136, 157, 162. 

Tartars of Asia, ror, 118. 

Tennessee, 225. 

Tessouat, Chief, 50, 60, 66, 80. 

‘Texas, La Salle’s colony, 233; horses 
brought to Illinois, 244. 

Thousana Islands, 181. 

Thrée* Rivers; 84,°\94, 302, -11c,, 155; 
149. 

Tobacco Indians, 115. See Hurons, 

Tonty, Henri, with La Salle, 187; at 
Niagara, I91; at Crévecoeur, 201; 
adventures, 218; at Green Bay, 221; 
on the Mississippi, 225; tries to succor 
La Salle, 235; at Fort St. Louis, 226; 
in Louisiana, 236. 

Tracy Lake. See Lake Superior 

Tracy, Marquis de, 147. 

Trent River, 72. 

Two Mountains, Lake of, 42. 


UTICA, Illinois, 178. 


VERMILION SEA, 136, 172. See Cali- 


fornia, Gulf of. 

Vignau, Nicholas, deceptive story, 44- 
55+ 

Vincennes, Sieur de, 254. 

Virginia, 89, 173, 264. 

Voyageurs, 158, 242. 


WABASH COUNTRY, 240. 

Wabash River, 186, 225, 247. 

Wild Rice Indians, 164. See Menxominees. 

Winnebagoes, 85, 87, 89, 90, III, 251. 

Winnebago Lake. See Lake Winnebago. 

Wisconsin, 89, 141, 167, 251. 

Wisconsin River, 93, 110, 
216. 

Wyandots, 30. 


116, 143, 


See Hurons. 


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UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBANA 


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